The Five and The Prince
by Floraquatica
Summary: My version of The One. Securing her place by Maxon's side was supposed to be a simple matter of trust, but with eight more girls joining the Selection, and new discoveries being made that raise the stakes higher than ever, things soon become far more complicated than America initially anticipated... The Selection Trilogy and it's characters are property of Kiera Cass.
1. I'm Rooting For You

**Hi everyone! This is my first attempt at writing fanfiction, so it's all very new to me. Waiting for The One was driving me mad, so I started reading fanfictions, and after a while I decided I wanted to give it a shot myself. Future chapters will probably be a little longer - tonight I'm simply testing the waters...**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The Tuesday following the Report, I sat at my piano pouring out the most familiar and comforting songs in my repertoire - the ones that conjured images of my dad and May smiling, their faces speckled with colorful paint, and the sound of Gerad fondly arguing with our mother about whether he could spend another half hour in the garden hunting down insects. I'd been so sure I was going home, and whilst I was ecstatic that Maxon still wanted me here, and so ready to fight for him, it was hard to come to terms with the fact that I wouldn't be seeing my family as soon as I'd been expecting to. After everything that had happened, I craved my dad's wisdom, and May's reassuring presence. I promised myself that I would write to them as soon as everything had calmed down.

A knock at my door pulled me from my thoughts of my family and I leapt from the piano, desperately hoping it was Maxon. We hadn't had a chance to talk properly since he'd told me I still had a place in the Elite, and after had Sylvia informed me that on this week's Report I'd be expected to make a statement retracting my presentation, I needed to see him now more than ever.

There was a wide smile on my face as I opened the door, which fell the moment I laid eyes on Kriss, standing there with her hands folded neatly in front of her dusty pink dress.

"Just me," she sighed, looking as uncomfortable as I felt, "May I come in? I heard you practicing and wondered if you wouldn't mind me listening."

I bit my lip, desperate for an excuse to turn her away. Kriss was a lovely girl, and that was part of the reason why her presence made me feel so uneasy. I hated how jealous I felt whenever I thought of her with Maxon, yet turning her away would do me no favours. Considering my tentative standing in the competition, I couldn't afford to put a toe wrong.

"What's Elise up to?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light.

Kriss sighed, "Hiding in her room. Celeste is in the Women's Room, and being particularly... _Celeste-like_ today."

If there was one thing Kriss and I were on the same page about, it was Celeste. If I didn't win the Selection, I wanted Maxon to be with someone who genuinely cared about him, and that definitely wasn't her. I could only imagine Kriss felt the same way. Whilst we were each other's biggest rivals, in a strange way we were also each other's biggest supporters. I held the door for her as she stepped inside, albeit hesitantly.

"Your room is lovely," she complimented nervously, pulling the chair from my dressing table and perching elegantly, smoothing her dress around her in a regal manner. It frustrated me how well she fitted the 'princess' mold.

I shrugged, "It's pretty much as it was when I arrived."

A smile flirted it's was across her lips, "Oh, I had mine changed within days of arriving. At first I didn't want to cause I fuss, but then I heard that Celeste refused to even sleep in her room until it had been completely redone. I didn't feel so guilty after that."

I'd never heard about that, but it reaffirmed my decision to keep my room as it was. However Celeste behaved, I wanted to be the polar opposite.

Despite my initial reluctance, Kriss made an inoffensive observer. She listened intently, and would clap politely at the end of each song.

Her sudden interest in me was no surprise. After the last Report, everyone had assumed I was going to be eliminated -me included- yet here I was. Kriss was, unsurprisingly, the most taken aback. My stubborn presence in the competition seemed to frustrate and fascinate her in equal measures, and she'd become incredibly, infuriatingly observant.

Kriss and I had once discussed the idea of being completely open with one another about our relationships with Maxon -she'd asked me to let her know if I had reason to believe she had no chance of winning- but ultimately it was something I couldn't bring myself to discuss with her. The way relationships developed within the confines of the Selection was unnatural enough as it was, and I wanted to keep the precious moments I'd shared with Maxon between the two of us. Sometimes I wondered if I should tell Kriss about the time I'd seen him with Celeste, but ultimately decided it wasn't my place.

We were both immersed in thought and music when the rebel alarm began to blare. Kriss's eyes widened, and I grabbed her by the wrist, steering her over to the escape route. As we made our way down the stairs all I could think about was the last rebel attack, of Maxon's poor back, and his vile father. I was so consumed that I only just registered Kriss's whimpering.

"America, you're hurting my wrist."

I loosened my grip as the door to the safe room came into view, "Sorry, I panicked."

"It's alright."

Maxon was waiting for us, and embraced each of us in turn as we careened through the door. He held Kriss first, murmuring something indecipherable into her tumbling brown hair. I forced myself to avert my eyes.

When he gathered me into his arms, I felt myself reveling in his embrace, despite my discomfort at just watching him hold Kriss in such a similar way. He found my ear and whispered, "I'm glad you're safe darling."

I pulled back and flashed him a goofy smile in an attempt to lighten the mood, "You too. Dare I say it, I miss the privacy we had during the last attack."

"Dare I say it, so do I," he replied with a grin.

I spied Elise sat on the furthest cot, shuffling a deck of cards and dealing a game of solitaire. Given Kriss's recent behaviour, I was fretting that she would use this time to try and talk some information out of me, so I made the executive decision to attempt conversation with the quietest and least confrontational member of the Elite.

"Want to play something together?"

Elise looked surprised that I'd chosen to approach her -we usually gave each other space during the rebel attacks- however she willingly scooped up the cards and dealt me into a game.

We played in relative silence for a couple of rounds, quietly observing the rest of the room. Celeste hovered near the King and Queen, looking somewhat bored, evidently hoping to be invited into their conversation. Kriss sat a few cots over from us, toying aimlessly with her necklace, whilst Maxon read uneasily in a chair beside his parents.

"I'm glad you're still here," Elise whispered as she shuffled the cards, her hands small and deft.

My head popped up, "Really?"

Elise smiled at my obvious surprise and nodded slowly, "What you said during the last Report... It was hasty, but it had merit. I think you'd be good for Illéa, America."

"Wow, thanks Elise."

"It's nothing. Besides, Kriss is too mild, and Celeste too selfish for the role. As much as I wish I could win, we both know why I'm still here, and it has nothing to do with Maxon's feelings for me."

I didn't reply, I simply frowned softly.

"America, if I can't win, I'm rooting for you."

The sincerity in her words was poignant. This was the same girl who'd once said that whilst she wouldn't get in my way, she also wouldn't help me. The long process of the Selection was making us all weary, and she was obviously a realist. Had there been more chemistry between her and Maxon, she would have made a good princess.

All I could manage was a weak, "Thank you."

"Think nothing of it."


	2. The Report & The Model

**Hello again! I wanted to get this second chapter out quite quickly, since Chapter 1 was a little short and I wanted to give you all something a little meatier to sink your teeth into.**

**Thank you so much for your reviews and feedback. This is my first fanfiction, so it's been very exciting!**

**MandLMacerForLife - Thank you! With so few girls left I wanted to get to know Elise better.**

**kassoug4 - Thank you so much!**

**Piper Pippins - What a lovely comment! Thank you.**

**Hearts And Crowns - Thank you! I hope you enjoy Chapter 2.**

* * *

The attack didn't last too long, and judging by the slightly more relaxed -perhaps even relieved- demeanour of the guards, it had been Northern rebels in the palace, not Southerners. Sure enough, when we were lead back up into main body of the palace I noted that rooms have been turned upside down, but there was no blood, no bodies - no sign of a struggle.

_No need to worry whether Aspen is alive, or dying in the infirmary__, _I thought to myself, but quickly dashed the notion from my mind. I'd made my choice, and I had to distance myself from all things Aspen. My priority now was regaining Maxon's trust, and convincing his father that me winning the Selection wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. Besides, Aspen Leger could look after himself just fine.

Maxon said goodbye to us all, planting a kiss on each of our cheeks, before returning to his duties. It was evident from his mussed-up hair and undone top button that his day had been a demanding one, and whilst I felt bad for him, it was reassuring to know he wouldn't be spending the few hours left before dinner in the company of Kriss or Celeste. After the shock of the attack, we all looked a little deflated as we were shepherded to the women's room, where Sylvia greeted us with a tray of tea and news regarding the upcoming Report.

"Ladies," she announced as we collapsed into our seats, Kriss taking charge of pouring the tea, "We've only two days until the Report, and I'm sure I needn't stress the importance of every public appearance at this stage in the Selection"

We all murmured something that sounded vaguely like an agreement.

"The end is in sight, and the public are thirsty to see your developing relationships with Prince Maxon. As such, this week you will all be interviewed with the Prince, so that the public may view your chemistry for themselves."

Kriss, Celeste and I all perked up at the news -this was the most promising Report task to date- however Elise visibly sank further into her seat.

"What sort of questions will we be asked?" Kriss piped up, cheeks tinged a pretty pink with evident excitement.

"Nothing taxing; just about your relationship, highlights of the Selection, your opinions of one another... Nothing you haven't been asked on your own thus far, and certainly nothing to fret about."

"When can we expect the next elimination?" Celeste asked in a faux-sweet voice.

Sylvia frowned, "Not for some time yet. After all, there will only be one more elimination before Prince Maxon is expected to chose his bride. The public want him to take his time - to make sure he chooses the right woman to be our future Queen."

When the other ladies were excused, Sylvia held me back for a moment.

"Lady America, I'll confess, the structure for this week's Report came about partly because the King felt it might create an organic way for you to resolve your mistakes of last week, with the Prince's guidance of course."

I nodded plainly, relief secretly coarsing through me. _Maxon would be by my side._

"It'd be wise of you to choose your words carefully. Exude charm and humility - be pliant."

"Of course, Sylvia."

She shot me a look that was brimming with a confused combination of fondness and resentment, before busying herself with her papers. She'd been so proud of my recent enthusiasm, and I'd thrown it all away with my rash behaviour. I realised I had more bridges to rebuild than I'd initially thought. I still believed that Maxon was right, and Illéa could use some 'ruining', but if I stood any chance of inheriting the power to make a difference I was going going to have to change my approach.

* * *

I'd become attached to the Friday afternoons I spent with my maids preparing me for the Report, and despite my uneasiness, the sound of Lucy and Mary chatting and the feel of Anne's certain fingers in my hair was comforting. Between us, we'd decided that it was best to play the 'innocent' angle again with my dress, but with more of an America twist. They'd yet to show me the fruits of their labour, but I could sense Lucy was bubbling over with excitement.

Mary kept my makeup natural and dewy, and Anne looped my hair into a whimsical braid in a halo around my head, studded with diamond pins so small you could only see them when they caught the light. It was possibly one of my favourite looks yet; I didn't feel overdone, yet I felt like a princess - like a One.

"Do you like it, miss?" Anne asked, obviously delighted with their work.

I said nothing in response, I simply beamed. Lucy clapped her hands and headed over to the armoire, wrestling the large garment bag from inside.

"Close your eyes!" she demanded, and I covered my eyes obligingly, unable to stop smiling.

With their help, I stepped into the dress, and felt them securing a long line of buttons up my back. When they were done, I was steered over to the full length mirror in the corner of my room, and finally told I could look.

When I opened my eyes, I felt my heart skip a beat. The bodice of the dress was constructed from transparent mesh, and covered with velvety turquoise flowers that twisted their way around my waist, over my chest, and up to my collarbones. At my hips, it spilled out into clouds of dreamy cream tulle that billowed in layers down to the floor. Lucy presented a pair of dainty silver kitten heels that finished the look perfectly.

"You three are the best maids a girl could ask for! I adore it."

"Really, miss?" Lucy gushed, fluffing the bottommost layers of the skirt.

"Really," I choked, trying not to let my emotions get the best of me. Before I left, the three of us embraced. Those ladies were so much more than my maids; they were my friends, my team.

* * *

For once, I was the last of the Elite to arrive. Kriss and Elise were already seated, whilst Celeste hovered by the refreshments, nursing a glass of water. I was heading over to the other girls when she intercepted me, pulling me aside before I could protest.

We were hidden behind one of the lighting panels, Celeste was muttering to herself, "My Goddammed maids. I ask one simple thing..."

I cocked an eyebrow, "Celeste, may I help you?"

She looked at me like I was a petulant child, "The dress - take it off."

I was appalled. Really? She was trying to pull this stunt _again_.

"I mean it, America!" she hissed, "Take it off. I mean, seriously, _I'm the_ _model_. If nothing else, I should be the showstopping one. Maxon clearly favours you enough as it is - you don't need a pretty dress to top it off."

She had to be kidding. Celeste's dress was beautiful in it's own way, but far too sultry for me; the shimmering green skirt was slit to the thigh, and the streamlined bodice hugged her in all the right places. I doubted it would even fit me.

"I'm not doing this," I sighed, turning to leave before she could sabotage another of my maid's beautiful creations. Before I could take two steps, I felt a sharp pain in my arm. Instinctively I pulled away, causing the pain to tear at my skin even more. Without thinking, I yelped.

Celeste had attempted to pull me back, but in her aggravation she'd grabbed my arm a little too tightly, and her pointed talons had pierced my skin. I was left with four angry red lines across my forearm, blood already beginning to form in glistening beads. The sight of the blood seemed to shake Celeste to her senses, and she suddenly looked more alarmed than aggressive.

My yelp had alerted Sylvia, who was soon beside us. At the sight of my savaged arm, she looked between Celeste and I in horror before exclaiming, "Lady Celeste, what on Earth have you done?"

Her shrill tone caught Maxon's attention. From across the room I caught his eye, and I saw his gaze dip to where I was grasping my arm. Without a moments hesitation, he hurried over.

"What's going on?" he demanded, and in response I shifted my hand so that he could see the number Celeste had done on my arm. His eyes widened, "Lady Celeste, did you do this?"

Her bottom lip quivered melodramatically, "It was an accident, I swear!"

Maxon frowned, and turned to me instead. He gently took one of my hands and said, "Lady America, will you tell me what happened?"

I pursed my lips. My instinct was to underplay the situation -to not sink to Celeste's level- but then I asked myself, _why am I protecting her?_ She certainly wouldn't do the same for me.I took a deep breath and calmly said, "Celeste demanded I give her my dress. When I tried to walk away, she grabbed me and hurt my arm."

Maxon's eyes darkened, and it gave me a sick thrill to see how truly protective he was of me. I'd told him about Celeste trying to take my dress the first time it happened, and he'd brushed it off. Seeing it unravel before him was clearly a different matter.

Meanwhile, Celeste's face fell as she began to fully appreciate the gravity of her actions. It was grounds for elimination. Celeste and I had fought before, but we'd both given as well as we'd got. This time, the attack was unprovoked and one sided.

"Maxon... I mean, your highness, it wasn't like that," she begged, but Maxon's expression remained cold.

"We'll discuss this after the Report. Meanwhile you should both go take your seats," he sighed, giving my hand a final squeeze before heading back to his parents. Celeste was silent as we took our seats, and remained so until the lights were up and the camera's rolling.

Introductions were brief - it seemed the main event today was our interviews with Maxon. As usual, we went into the order we were sitting, with Kriss going first. It was uncomfortable to watch. Maxon positioned himself on the small sofa with his arm curled around Kriss's waist. She beamed, and as always presented herself as the perfect princess; poised, yielding and gentle.

Elise's inteview with Maxon was more awkward. Their lack of chemistry was evident, but they both tried to compensate by giving interesting answers to all of Gavril's questions. If nothing else, I couldn't help but think that the two of them could potentially make a good team, even if there was no romantic attachment.

Then it was my turn. Maxon kissed my cheek as I joined him on the sofa, and Gavril grinned in delight.

"Lady America, how are you since we last spoke? Not been causing too much trouble for our Prince, have you?"

Maxon laughed, and I felt myself blush, "I've been on my best behaviour, Gavril, I promise."

Gavril pouted, "Well, colour me disappointed! What happened to that little fireball we'd all come to love?"

Maxon wrapped an arm around my shoulder fondly, "She's still plenty fiery, Gavril, she's just learning to focus her passion in more productive ways."

I smiled up at Maxon, after a distant week, it was reassuring to hear him talking about me so positively in front of the whole of Illéa.

"You wouldn't be referring to Lady America's presentation last week, would you? Unfortunately the broadcast was cut off - could you share a little insight?"

This was the crucial moment. I glanced over to the King; his eyes were hard and his mouth tense.

Maxon spoke before I had a chance, "America is full of refreshing ideas, some more feasible than others, but with a little more training in politics and diplomacy I would say she's full of potential."

My heart was pounding. This was it. My throat was dry but I forced myself to speak, "Last week I was overcome by the opportunity to speak my ideas for the first time. Whilst I do believe there would be merit to rendering the workings of the caste system more flexible, my ideas were uninformed. With Maxon's help, I've come to better understand the subtleties of these things, and perhaps in time we'll be able to work out some more practical alterations to the system... Together."

I added the last word tentatively, but I felt Maxon swell with pride beside me. I hazarded a glance over at King, and whilst he didn't look _happy,_ he did look somewhat appeased.

Celeste's interview was even more awkward than Elise's. Maxon seemed distant, and Celeste overcompensated by constantly touching his leg and shoulder, twisting her hair around her fingers and wetting her lips with the tip her tounge between every question. Maxon had very little to say.

_Could this be it, _I thought to myself, _is Celeste finally going home?_


	3. Amberley's Office

**Hi everyone! Somehow I've managed to update three days in a row - I'm never normally this organised, so who knows how I've managed that. This is a fairly important chapter, introducing the potential 'twist' to the Selection. I'd love to know what you all think!**

**Hearts And Crowns - I'm rooting for Maxerica too, naturally!**

**Nichole Hero Of The Gods - That's so reassuring to hear - thank you!**

**Piper Pippins - Thank you so much!**

**lilythemermaid - Yay, thank you! Protective Maxon girls me feels too.**

**Guest mih - Sorry about that! I was worried the chapter was dragging on a bit.  
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**I hope you all enjoy Chapter 3!**

* * *

Queen Amberley's office was a lovely, serene place. The four of us sat in pristine cream armchairs around a glass coffee table laden with afternoon tea, drinking in the hazy autumn sunlight that poured in through the giant windows, catching the gold floral overlay that laced it's way down the delicate pink walls.

"One day this office will belong to one of you," she sighed, and the mere possibility gave me chills.

She'd invited Kriss, Elise and I here to discuss Celeste. After she'd injured me before the last Report, her status in the Selection had been thrown into limbo. Maxon had made it no secret that he wanted her gone, yet for some reason she was still here. Granted, she no longer ate her meals with us, and she hadn't turned up for any of our lessons with Sylvia, but there had been no official elimination. I suspected the King was to blame.

My arm was padded with gauze where she'd scratched me. The moment the Report was over, Maxon had taken me straight to the infirmary to get the cuts disinfected and bandaged. He hadn't said much, but his anger was palpable. It had been a few days now, and they were beginning to heal.

Queen Amberley had poured us all cups of tea, and now that we were all settled, she addressed the real reason we were all here, "Ladies, as you know by now, prior to the last Report, Lady Celeste attacked another member of the Selection. You'll be reassured to know that both Prince Maxon and I both consider her actions inexcusable."

I could have sighed with relief, however I kept myself composed. I wanted to make a good impression on the Queen. If what she was saying was true, it meant that any feelings Maxon might have had for Celeste had well and truly crumbled.

"However," she continued, "Unfortunately, it's not quite that simple. I've gathered you here today to discuss your feelings regarding Lady Celeste, and any past incidents that might have slipped beneath our radar."

"What sort of incidents, your majesty?" Kriss asked tentatively.

"Primarily, I want to know if she's hurt any member of the Selection before. It's become apparent that she has quite the manipulative streak, so I wouldn't be surprised if she'd somehow hidden such events from my family and I."

I swallowed, deciding someone had to get the ball rolling, "Last week wasn't the first time she's tried to take my dress before the Report. The first time she only torn my dress, though."

Amberley frowned, "How unpleasant. However have their been any attacks that have caused physical injury?"

Kriss shifted uncomfortably in her seat, setting her teacup down on the coffee table before eventually speaking, "I've walked past her room before and seen her... striking her maids. On more than one occasion."

I'd heard about this before when I was being treated after our fight. It stirred another memory, "Also, when I was in the infirmary once, a nurse told me one of the girls came in after Celeste had slipped broken glass into her shoes, although she didn't say who it was."

The Queen's eyes hardened. She was such a good person, and it was comforting to see her moral compass was completely on point. At least one of Maxon's parents was reasonable.

Elise let out a shaky breath, "That... was me."

We all turned to face her in horror, but she avoided meeting any of our eyes.

"Lady Elise," Amberley began gently, "If I may, are you absolutely certain it was Celeste?"

Elise nodded slowly, "Yes, your majesty. It was before one of the Halloween Ball dance lessons. She threatened me, and then it happened a day later. I can't think of anyone else who would do something like that."

* * *

None of us had seen much of Maxon since the Report, excluding mealtimes, when he often looked like he'd been spending his day bashing his head against a wall. His eyes were shadowed with dark circles, and he looked somewhat gaunt. I could only assume that he was constantly butting heads with his father about whether he could eliminate Celeste, and probably losing.

The evening following the Elite's tea with the Queen, I sat in front of my mirror teasing pins from my hair. It was one of those evenings where I felt the need to be alone with my own thoughts, so I'd excused my maids and insisted I could get myself ready for bed.

There was a gentle knock at the door, and Maxon entered before I had a chance to stand. I quickly ran my fingers through my hair, catching the last of the pins and letting them fall into a small ceramic dish on the dressing table.

"Sorry for intruding," he sighed, "I didn't want to lurk outside too long. I haven't seen Elise and Kriss alone in quite some time - I didn't want them getting upset if they saw me visiting you."

I hated the fact that I still had to share Maxon to an extent, but I was grateful that he was so considerate.

I flashed him a small smile, standing to greet him, "I don't mind."

He gathered me into his arms and I clung to his shirt. We stayed that way for a while, simply holding one another. He nuzzled his nose into my hair and I pressed my cheek to the cool skin of his neck.

"I miss you," I sighed as I pulled back in his embrace, and he frowned in response.

"I know - I miss you too. How's your week been?"

I shrugged, pulling him over to the edge of my bed. We sat nestled together, my legs pulled to my chest and my head on his shoulder, "Alright I suppose. We had tea with your mother today."

Maxon nodded, "So I heard. Is it true about the broken glass."

"Yes, sadly it is," I grimaced.

He would an arm around me, squeezing me gently, "I'm sorry. I should have listened to you about Celeste sooner."

I shrugged, leaning into him, "It's fine. It's kind of endearing how you see the good in people."

"But if I'd listened, she wouldn't have had a chance to hurt you."

He sounded wounded. I wriggled out of his embrace and turned so that I was looking him in the eye, "Maxon Schreave, don't you _dare_ beat yourself up about this. It's not your fault - it's Celeste's. She manipulative, and she played us all. Besides, it's only a few scratches."

He didn't look entirely convinced, but he didn't argue either. Instead, he pulled me into his lap and held me there tightly. Hours could have passed, and I doubt I would have noticed.

"I want her gone. You do belive me, don't you?"

I had to laugh, "Of course I do. Believe it or not, I've become quite good at reading you."

His lips twisted into a half smile, "If I had my way, I'd have sent her home on Friday, but it's my father..."

I'd assumed as much, but I didn't say anything.

"He's insisting that I need to keep her here because of her family connections, but he also doesn't want the Elite to be narrowed down to the final three just yet-"

"Because then you'd have to make your final decision," I interrupted, realisation dawning on me. If Celeste went home, then Maxon would have to make his decision, and his father still didn't want me as his country's future queen. My heart fell, and I found myself unable to meet Maxon's gaze.

"He thinks I need more time," Maxon sighed, toying with a lock of my hair, "However, that doesn't mean we can't send Celeste home."

I looked up at him, my face a picture of confusion.

"My father suggested an alternative. He said I can send Celeste home, on the condition a few new girls join the Selection."

My heart twisted in my chest. Surely this couldn't be happening?

"I know it sounds mad," Maxon continued, "But do you remember the first eight girls I dismissed on gut instinct? My father has suggested that another eight girls from their Provinces join the Selection. Honestly, I think it'll be worth it. I'll take them on a date or two, eliminate a couple at a time, and keep my father appeased. It'll give him more time to come to his senses and realise what a fantastic princess you'd be."

My stomach was churning. _Eight new girls?_ Suddenly the idea of tolerating Celeste for a little while longer didn't seem too terrible, however it was clear Maxon had made up his mind about sending her home. My main concern was that he would fall for one of the new girls. I was already competing with Kriss for his affections - could I handle it if another girl was thrown into the mix?

Maxon could sense my uncertainty, and scooped my hands into his, "I know this is a big change America, but it's all for show. We have to play my father's game. Trust me, I know what I'm doing."

I swallowed, my throat feeling bone dry all of a sudden, "Please, don't be rash about this, think it through carefully."

He ducked his head and dropped a tender kiss on my forehead, "I will."

* * *

At breakfast the next morning Maxon looked more pulled together than he had since the Report, and I could tell I wasn't the only one who'd noticed. The whole atmosphere had been lifted. Queen Amberley looked more peaceful, Kriss was more chatty, and even Elise seemed more vibrant. It was almost enough to make me forget the uncertainty coiling in the pit of my stomach.

When we'd all finished eating, Maxon stood to make an announcement. It was the first time Kriss and Elise had heard him speak for days, and they were hanging off his every word.

"Ladies, I apologise for keeping you in the dark regarding Lady Celeste's standing within the Selection. Whilst a final decision has yet to be made, I felt it only fair that I be completely transparent with you about the current situation. There is a strong possibility that she will be eliminated following her assault on Lady America. However, as I'm not yet ready to make my final decision regarding which of you I desire as my future wife, if Lady Celeste is eliminated then we will be welcoming some new ladies into the Selection, from Provinces eliminated in the early stages of the competition. We hope to have made our final decision by this time tomorrow. Thank you all for your understanding and patience."

It was like a bucket of ice water had been thrown over the warm atmosphere that we'd been enjoying just minutes earlier. The utter devastation on Kriss's delicate face, and the confusion on Elise's mirrored how I felt. Whatever Maxon and his father decided to do, it was clear that the next few weeks were going to be very uncomfortable indeed.


	4. Double Date

**Thank you for all your feedback! I'm glad the 'twist' got such a good response.**

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**I hope you all enjoy Chapter 4!**

* * *

After breakfast I had a private lesson with Sylvia. Since I'd retracted my presentation, it seemed the two of us were on good terms again. I was relieved she'd forgiven me - the more alliances I had in the palace, the better.

I made my way back to my room, my spirits raised. I enjoyed studying diplomacy more than I ever would have expected to, and I hoped that the better I became at it, the easier it would be to sway the King's favour. I reassured myself with the notion that I was doing all the right things.

My good mood crumbled like wet cake the moment I stepped inside my room, where two people were perched on my bed waiting for me. Elise looked uncertain, like she wasn't quite sure why she was there, whilst Kriss looked determined. She was the one who addressed me, "America, we really need to talk to you."

I tried to remain composed, perching at my dressing table and pressing a little powder to my nose. I never usually applied makeup without being coerced by my maids, but I needed something to busy myself with. I tried to exude a combination of airiness and innocence as I replied, "Do you?"

Kriss looked thrown off. _She _was supposed to be the ladylike, non-confrontational one - not me. She swallowed lightly before continuing, "Yes, we do. We're not stupid. At breakfast, you weren't nearly as surprised by Maxon's announcement as we were - you already knew."

"Yes, I did," I replied calmly. There was no point in lying to them.

"It's clearly a decision Maxon has involved you in. However our question is, why on Earth would you agree to it?"

I shrugged, meeting their intense stares in my mirror, "All Maxon and I have agreed upon is that Celeste can't stay here. Surely you can understand that."

Kriss was clearly frustrated, "Of course we can, but at the cost of new girls joining the competition? We're so close to the end now. This would be taking one step forward, and three steps back."

_More like eight steps back_, I thought to myself.

Elise sighed heavily, "Regardless of individual motivation, I think it's in all of our best interests that the Selection end as soon as possible. If Maxon doesn't want me, I'd sooner be spending this time with my family."

Elise was calmer and more rational, but I was preoccupied by how ruffled Kriss seemed. I'd never seen her this unsettled before.

"Is it really the worst thing in the world?" I asked, turning to face them properly, "We clearly have an advantage. Besides, how much of an influence do you think I have?"

"More than you're letting on," Kriss muttered through gritted teeth.

I held up my hands, "Sorry to disappoint, but Maxon made this move on his own. He simply let me know before he announced it this morning."

Kriss pursed her lips, "That as it may be, _please _do everything in your power to convince him it's a bad idea. It'll over-complicate things for all of us."

"She's right, America," Elise agreed with a firm nod, "If nothing else, please try."

I sighed, turning back to my mirror and playing absently with a loose pin, "I'll think it through, but even if I wanted to, I doubt I can change his mind."

"If any of us can, it's you," Elise said quietly, before the two of them took their cue and left me to my own devices.

When I heard the door click shut behind them, I got up and fell back onto my bed. Talking to them had been a mental workout, but it had given me a lot to think about. The idea of more girls joining the Selection had clearly put Kriss on edge. Since the Halloween Ball and Marlee's caning, Kriss had been so sure she'd become Maxon's favourite. She'd clearly thought she was the front runner, but seeing the influence I held over Maxon had knocked her confidence. I had a feeling that if eight new girls joined the Selection and she had to watch him date them all, she'd crumble. Little did she know that it was all for show.

Kriss was my biggest competition, and I'd found a way to throw her off her game. Suddenly I was eager to see these eight new girls to join the Selection.

* * *

At lunch I'd planned to catch Maxon's attention and tug my ear, however I didn't need to. Shortly after I took my seat, his eyes found mine and he tugged his own ear with a small smile. I returned the gesture without hesitation.

Soon after I returned to my room, there was a firm knock at the door. Lucy went to answer, and returned with a note folded on a small silver plate. I tore it open eagerly.

_Be ready at five. We've got a double date._

_Maxon x_

A double date. My head span with the possibilities. I showed it to my maids and they looked as confused as I felt. Was Maxon intending to take me on a date with one of the other girls? The possibility made me feel sick, but I couldn't get it out of my head. I imagined sharing one of our intimate strolls through the gardens with Kriss or Elise and the thought made my head spin. Nevertheless, I made sure I was ready for him. If I was to regain his trust, I had to trust him in return.

My maids dressed me in an airy mint dress with dainty sleeves that sat just off my shoulders, and left my hair loose with a few pieces pinned back from my face. I looked fresh and pretty, but my thoughts were far from. If he was taking me on a date with another girl, I doubted I could ever forgive him.

The knock came at five on the dot, and to my utter relief Maxon was on his own. He offered me his arm, and I walked with him obligingly.

"We're not picking anyone else up, are we?" I asked hesitantly.

Maxon looked aghast, "You really think I'd take you on a date one of the other girls?"

I shrugged, but relief coursed through me, "I didn't know what else your note could mean."

"You'll see soon enough," he replied with a grin.

We walked in silence for a few moments before I began what I needed to say, "Maxon, if you think that sending Celeste home and inviting another eight girls to the castle is the best course of action, I support you."

He looked taken aback, but pleasantly surprised, "Really?"

I shot him a coy smile, "Really. I trust you."

"I can't tell you what a relief that is to hear," he sighed, giving my arm a squeeze. I was hesitant to let myself become too comfortable in my standing, however part of me was confident I was regaining my position as his favourite.

We twisted through the corridors and up staircases, until I realised we'd taken this route before. I looked up at him with wide eyes, "The Princess Suite?"

He didn't reply, but he didn't need to. His wide smile was all the confirmation I needed. Sure enough, we turned onto that familiar corridor, and Maxon bounded over to the door. He insisted I close my eyes as he led me inside.

When he allowed me to open them, I was greeted by Marlee's beaming smile. She shouted "Surprise!" in chorus with Maxon and Carter.

Of course! _A double date_. It all made sense now, and it was more wonderful than I ever could have hoped

I squealed and launched myself at Marlee, hugging her tightly. She clung to me, matching my enthusiasm, whilst the boys laughed at our excitement.

A sudden wave of concern washed over me, "Maxon, your father-"

"Will never know," Maxon interrupted, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder, "I've got one of my best men at the door, and he answers to me, not my father."

He'd thought it all out perfectly. A red check blanket was laid out on the floor, covered in fruit, cheeses, cold meats, strawberry tarts and a bottle of elderflower wine. It was the perfect picnic, and one of the most thoughtful things Maxon had ever done for me. I felt tears prick my eyes as I pulled both him and Marlee into a group hug. Concerned we were leaving Carter out, I went to shake his hand, however he embraced me like an old friend.

It was the happiest I'd felt in weeks. We drank and ate and talked, Marlee regaling us with gossip from the kitchens, and stories about her attempts to master strawberry tarts - since she knew they were my favourite. It turned out she'd made the batch we were eating, and they were simply delicious. Carter told us about life working in the stables; how he relished the fresh air, and how refreshing it was after life as a guard. I was relieved to see there was no tension between them and Maxon, and for the first time I realised what a gift he had given them. If the King had been in charge, they would be dead, yet here they were - happy, in love, and thriving in the lively community that existed behind the scenes in the palace.

"I can't believe what Celeste did," Marlee sighed, resting her head against my shoulder, "Actually, what am I saying? Of course I can believe it. It has Celeste written all over it."

"Play nice, ladies," Carter chuckled, gazing at Marlee adoringly over his wine glass.

Marlee crossed her arms and stuck out her bottom lip petulantly, "No, I won't, not when it comes to Celeste - _especially_ when she's hurt my best friend."

"No need to worry about Celeste," Maxon reassured, "She won't be in the palace much longer now."

Marlee sighed in relief, "Thank God. Good riddance!"

Taking a bite of yet another strawberry tart, I placed my hand over Marlee's, "You simply _have_ to teach me how to make these! You've mastered it."

Her smile could have lit up the whole room, "Really?"

"Absolutely!"

Marlee turned to Maxon, "Would that me alright? For America to visit me in the kitchens?"

He shrugged, "I don't see why not. There's no need for my father to know."

We both giggled in delight, and clinked our wine glasses together to make it official.

Before we left, Maxon and Carter left Marlee and I alone for a few minutes.

"Is it true then?" She asked intently, "Are there really going to be more girls joining the Selection?"

I nodded, "It seems so. I told Maxon I was alright with it earlier."

"Are you really alright with it?" she asked, searching my eyes for an answer.

"I really am," I admitted, "Between you and I, Kriss hates the idea. I think it'll really throw her off her game."

Marlee shot me an evil smile, "America Singer, are you playing dirty?"

I shrugged with mock innocence, "Maybe."

She hugged me tightly, "You're going to win, I just know it! Get your maids to deliver notes to the kitchen and we'll organise your baking lessons."

"I can't wait," I whispered, just before she slipped out of sight.

* * *

**Now for something a bit different! I've yet to write all of the new girls who'll be joining the Selection, so feel free to leave a review suggesting names and castes. If I like them, they may well end up in the final story!**


	5. The New Selected

**Wow - thank you for the amazing response! To thank you all for your enthusiasm, I decided to release this chapter early. Unfortunately I received too many names to use them all, but if you did submit one keep an eye out at the end of this chapter to see if your girl made it in!**

**kassoug4 - Thank you for reading!**

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**CrazySkaterGirl17 - We'll see what happens! ****Thanks for the submission.**

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**********Ingrid - Thank you so much for reading, and thanks for the submission.  
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**********prnamber3909 - Thanks for the offer, however since it says in the book that some of the eliminated girls got engaged shortly after, I've decided to a new selection of girls :)**

**I hope you all enjoy Chapter 5!  
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* * *

Breakfast the next morning was tense, as Kriss and Elise waited to see whether or not Maxon would be eliminating Celeste, I nibbled on a strawberry tart, trying my hardest not to draw attention to myself. It wasn't just the other Elite who were curious - there were also cameras filming us eat. No doubt this development would be a shock for the whole of Illéa. I'd decided not to tell them what I knew, it would just be asking for confrontation. Besides, once Maxon announced it, there would be nothing they could do about it. They both picked at their food, obviously anxious for the announcement.

Eventually Maxon decided to put them out of their misery, "Ladies, thank you again for your patience. I can now announce that Lady Celeste has been officially eliminated from The Selection, and left the palace in the early hours of this morning. To compensate numbers, on this week's Report we will be drawing another eight new ladies from the Provinces initially eliminated. I'm sure I can count on all three of you to receive the new members of the Selection gracefully. Thank you."

Kriss looked crestfallen, and Elise bitterly concerned. I tried my hardest to keep my expression neutral, wanting to give a good impression to the cameras. I had the advantage here.

* * *

Preparations for the new Selected began immediately. The hallways outside my bedroom were suddenly full of life again, maids dipping in and out of the old Selected's bedrooms, readying them for their new occupants. My maids didn't know what to think as the four of us played cards in my room, listening to the mayhem taking place just outside.

"If I may say so, Miss, this all seems a bit unnecessary," Anne commented, "The Prince obviously cares for you far more than Lady Kriss or Lady Elise - why drag another eight girls into the matter? They'll only be disappointed."

"It's not Maxon that's the problem, it's _the King,_" I whispered, and watched as realisation dawned one each of their faces, "It'll be fine, I know what I'm doing."

"I hope you do, Miss," Lucy sighed, "I don't think I could bear it if the Prince fell for someone else now."

_Tell me about it, Lucy_, I thought to myself.

* * *

Friday rolled around quickly, and before I knew it I was once again sat before my dressing table, being fussed over by my maids. Anne had loosely curled my hair and was pinning it on the back of my head, and Mary had painted my face with my usual shadow of makeup. Lucy presented Anne with a gold headband constructed of intertwining leaves and roses, which she carefully placed atop my curls.

"Are you nervous, Miss?" Lucy asked quietly, hands folded in front of her neatly ironed apron.

I smiled reassuringly, "Not at all. If anything, it's quite exciting, don't you think?"

My maids didn't look convinced. For a moment I wondered if I was placing too much of my trust in Maxon - if I was making a horrendous mistake - however things were currently going so well between us, and I doubted he would have gone along with the King's suggestion of inviting another eight girls into the Selection if he weren't entirely sure what he was doing.

I was pulled from my thoughts as yet another garment bag was wrestled from the armoire, although it wasn't quite as big as last week's. This dress was a little more sophisticated, with an understated elegance. It was constructed from delicate peach lace, with a high neck and capped sleeves. It nipped in at the waist, then flowed down in soft waves of peach lace and tulle. It was a dress I could imagine Queen Amberley wearing - the dress of a quietly confident Princess-in-waiting. It was exactly the kind of thing I wanted to wear tonight.

"How is it that you three always get it exactly right?" I asked in wonder, and all three of them glowed with pride.

"We wanted you to look like you didn't even need to try," Mary explained, stroking the soft lace, "Unfortunately the public and press may assume that Maxon is selecting another eight girls as he's decided he doesn't want to marry any of the remaining Elite, so you must give off an air of effortless confidence. Like you know exactly what's going on, and it doesn't bother you in the slightest. You must act like the whole Selection is beneath you."

"Do you really think so?" I sighed, hugging my ribs with sudden uncertainty.

"Yes," Mary replied, Lucy and Anne echoing her, "Keep your head high, miss. We all believe in you, as does most of the castle if I'm not mistaken!"

As I made my way downstairs for the Report, I reminded myself of everything my maids had told me. _You are confident, effortless - the Selection is beneath you now_. I couldn't quite bring myself to believe it, but it somehow made me feel a little more at ease.

Kriss and Elise were already seated, both looking a little deflated. Despite their disposition, they both looked beautiful. Their gowns were the prettiest I'd seen them in yet, and their hair and makeup was immaculate. The intended message they were sending to the new Selected was clear.

_We're still here, and we were here first. Don't forget it._

When the cameras began to roll, the King made a few brief announcements. It was clear that everyone was itching to jump to the Selection, and sure enough it wasn't long before Gavril took over, asking Maxon a few key questions.

"Prince Maxon, who'd have thought we'd find ourselves here again?" Gavril chuckled.

Maxon smiled lightly, "It's certainly an unexpected turn of events, but then no one would have expected Lady Celeste to turn on Lady America the way she did last week."

"That's very true," Gavril replied solemnly, however his tone then brightened, "So tell us, your majesty, were you not ready to select one of the three lovely ladies behind us to be your bride."

"I have an idea, Gavril," Maxon admitted, glancing briefly in my direction, "However I'm not quite there yet. Truthfully, this was the only way to buy a little more time."

"Well who knows what will happen next!" Gavril exclaimed, "You've certainly stirred things up, Prince Maxon, and we can't wait to see what happens next. Is there anything you'd like to add before we reveal the new Selected."

Maxon glanced over at us, and I smiled reassuringly. He smiled back, and spoke confidently, "First and foremost, I would like to apologise to the ladies of the Elite. All three of them have been incredibly patient and graceful throughout this whole process, and I can only imagine how much they must be missing their families and homes. To the new Selected, I look forward to meeting you all."

Gavril nodded, "Well spoken, your majesty. Now ladies and gentlemen, please join me in congratulating the following Daughters of Illéa."

My heart thrummed in my chest as a large screen dropped with the emblem of Illéa projected upon it. The last time this had happened, I'd been a Five in Carolina, watching things unfold over bowls of popcorn with my family. So much had changed since then.

"Miss Braelyn Symons of Whites, Four." A photo of a mysteriously beautiful girl with soft hair and smoldering eyes appeared on the screen. All of a sudden, this felt incredibly real. I felt for Elise's hand beside me, and we held each other tightly.

"Miss Rain Hughes of Denbeigh, Five." A slim girl with flawless dark skin and long, thick hair. My heart twisted in my chest, and I had to make a conscious effort to remain composed.

"Miss Elena Giraudaux of Bonita, Three." An elegant girl with glossy brown curls and striking hazel eyes. I had to resist the urge to watch Maxon's reactions as each of these photos popped up. I didn't know if I could handle it.

The names kept coming. Alyssa Waters, Three. Iris Rana, Two. Forest Davis, Three. Cyndi Cade, Two. With the announcement of each name my heart was twisted a little further until the pain was nearly unbearable. Why had I allowed myself to be put through this? Each girl was beautiful in her own way - no one would blame Maxon for falling for any one of them.

"Miss Posie Mellows of Allens, Four." A girl with fluffy blonde hair that bounced just below her shoulders and sparkling brown eyes. I had to look away.

As suddenly as it had begun, it was all over. I couldn't quite read Maxon's expression as Gavril patted him on the back. I tugged my ear, but he either hadn't seen me or simply didn't respond. My blood turned to ice in my veins.

"That's it for tonight, ladies and gentlemen," Gavril announced, "We look forward to welcoming the new members of the Selected this time next week - goodbye for now!"

_One week_. One week before everything changed. One week to make sure Maxon's heart was mine, and mine alone.

* * *

**Ooh, so what kind of vibes are we getting from the Selected so far? Who do you think might be a troublemaker, who might fight Mer for Maxon's heart, and who could be a potential friend? Thanks for reading!**


	6. Baking Lessons

**It seems the last chapter put a few of you on edge - I promise this one isn't as stressful! Plus... Marlee's back!**

**Basedonthosebooks - We'll have to wait and see! Maxerica have definitely got an interesting few weeks coming up...**

****** jessica mackenzie 330 - Thank you so much for reading!**

**Adriana - I definitely agree, but eight new girls could definitely confuse things!  
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**Guest mih - I'm sorry, sometimes it's good to be a little scared though! :)  
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**prnamber3909 - Just wait until the girls get here! Thanks for reading.**

**ilona18 - Thank you! You've got great intuition - I hope you like the girls when they arrive!**

**Piper Pippins - Oh no! Let's hope you like how it all pans out. Thanks for your lovely comments!**

**Hope you all enjoy Chapter 6!**

* * *

"The Illéa Winter Ball is a treasured tradition," Sylvia began, pushing a set of files across the table to us, "And this year, it lines up perfectly with the arrival of the new members of the Selection. Given it's importance, the Queen has taken the lead with organisation, however she has outlined a few details she requires the three of you to take charge of."

Despite the constant uncertainty that had been bubbling away inside me over the past couple of days, this was exciting news. When I was a Five, I'd always looked forward to watching the Illéa Winter Ball on television. Our whole family would dress up in the smartest clothes we owned, and my mother would bake a small cake for the occasion. It was always so grand and beautiful, like a scene from a fairytale. As if attending it in person wasn't enough, this year I would have a hand in _planning_ it.

"I'm sure I needn't stress the importance of this event," Sylvia continued, eying us all firmly, "Monarchs from across the globe will be in attendance, and it will be your responsibility to assist in hosting and impressing them."

I eagerly flipped through the guest list, and sure enough Princess Nicoletta and her family would be attending. I couldn't help but smile. I'd yet to take her up on her offer of support, however it would still be good to see her again, especially given the current situation.

Sylvia fished out three additional files, smaller than the last, "These packets detail your individual assignments. Lady Elise, you will be in charge of entertainment, Lady Kriss, you will be in charge of providing gifts for our foreign guests, and Lady America, you will be in charge of food. As always, the Queen and I will be on hand should you need assistance. This event has to unfold perfectly, so we wholeheartedly encourage you to seek us out if you are struggling."

Food - _perfect! _This afternoon I had my first baking lesson with Marlee, so I'd be able to start thinking about it then. I gathered both of the files and headed back to my room to get stuck in.

I spent the afternoon skimming through files and drafting up potential menus, all the while my maids regaling me with their memories and experiences of the Winter Ball. Of course, they'd never attended as guests, but nonetheless they claimed the atmosphere was infectious. Lucy said, "It's like the palace is sprinkled with fairy dust for one night. The corridors are full of beautiful dresses and smells, and there's laughter and music everywhere. We find discarded champagne glasses and fallen earrings for weeks afterwards!"

She painted the image so well that it gave me chills. I hoped that Maxon and I would spend the night dancing together the way we had at Halloween, before everything had become so complicated.

A couple of hours later, I headed out to the kitchens, drafted menus in hand. My maids had dressed me in a light linen dress that felt liberating after being stuck in my usual heavy day dresses, and the thought of seeing Marlee and having a couple of hours away from my usual life in the palace had lifted my spirits. Maxon had said it was best that I used the passageway from the Princess suite to the kitchens to throw his father off the scent, so I hurried down the corridors and stairways that were becoming pleasantly familiar.

In the Princess suite, the curtains were drawn and a selection of stepladders, paint pots and toolboxes sat abandoned in the corner. It was evident that the staff were preparing the room in every way they could for the time being, without committing to a colour scheme. I couldn't help but imagine it all done up in pretty shades of blue.

Before I headed down the passageway, I stole a glance at the door connecting to Maxon's bedroom, wondering if he was in there. A little light spilled beneath, and my attention was suddenly drawn to the sound of distant, muffled voices. I knew it was wrong of me, but I tiptoed across, and placed my ear to the wood.

"I thought things were going so well between us," I heard a girl sob lightly.

_Kriss._ My heart wrenched. Maxon had never invited me into his room before, yet it seemed Kriss was quite familiar with it.

I heard Maxon sigh, "Lady Kriss, please be understanding. I'm very fond of you, you know that, but I also care for Lady America and lady Elise. I _can_ see a future with you, but I need more time to make this decision."

He could see a future with her - those words cut deep. I consoled myself with the fact they were still using formalities, and Kriss had put up certain physical boundaries. Maxon and I had broken down walls that were still very much in place in his relationship with Kriss.

"Your majesty," Kriss begged, "Is it really too late to bring Lady Celeste back? To continue the Selection with just the four of us?"

I heard Maxon inhale sharply, "You know I can't do that, not after what she did to Lady America."

"But Celeste and America were _always_ at each other's throats," Kriss cried, her elegant disposition cracking, "What made this time so different? I hate to say it, your majesty, but I'm fairly sure America must have provoked Celeste on some level. Celeste had a mean streak, but she was also composed. She wouldn't have lashed out physically without good reason."

_You're giving Celeste a lot of credit_, I thought to myself. Kriss was my rival, but I thought we were on relatively good terms - it hurt to hear her talking like this. I knew I should stop listening, but I wanted to hear Maxon's response.

"I won't hear any of that, Lady Kriss," Maxon replied smoothly, but beneath his cool tone I could hear a rumbling threat, "Lady America has shown nothing but good intent and kindness, and I will not tolerate any insinuations that she _deserved_ to be attacked."

His words were like a balm on my uncertainty. Kriss had questioned me, and Maxon had jumped to my defense, even when no one was there to witness it. I didn't hear the rest of their conversation, I simply heard Kriss sobbing, and Maxon pacing.

Eventually I tore myself away, flying down the passageway and down to the kitchens. Marlee had written me a set of directions, and I found my way well enough. The kitchens were based around one giant room with a high ceiling, full of noise and steam and good smells. There were a number of doorways dotted along the walls branching off into smaller prep rooms. Marlee waited in the doorway of one, and waved me over. Her thick hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and her face was smeared with flour. I couldn't help but smile at the sight of her.

Apparently the head chef -a broad woman with a loud voice and a kind heart- knew all about Marlee, and upon hearing that I wanted baking lessons had insisted we commandeer one of the prep rooms. Marlee had everything ready - a mound of pastry, bowls of fresh strawberries, and a pristine apron that she looped around my neck as she pulled me into a hug.

"You're late!" she tutted with mock irritation as she span me by shoulder and bowed my apron strings for me.

I smiled, inhaling the comforting smells of flour and fruit, "Sorry, I got caught up in something."

Marlee's eyebrows shot up, a streak of flour marring the right one, "What was it?"

"Nothing important, as it turned out," I insisted, shaking my head. Marlee didn't look entirely convinced, but nonetheless she dragged me over to the worktop.

She pushed her sleeves up securely, ran her hands under the tap, and gestured for me to do the same, "I thought we'd start nice and easy. I've already made the pastry, so we'll just assemble them today."

I grinned, "Sounds good to me!"

We spent the next hour rolling pastry, lining tins, boiling fruit and flicking one another with flour. I felt detached from all the stresses in my life, and it was wonderful. Eventually Marlee darted off to put the tarts in the oven, and when she returned she had the head chef in tow.

"An honour to meet you, Lady America," she greeted with a smile, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Don't be silly, it's just me. It's lovely to meet you too."

Her expression turned somber, "No, really Miss. You truly are our favourite down here - we all think the prince is mad to cart another eight girls over when you're right under his nose!"

That was comforting to hear. I'd been born a Five, and ultimately that was still who I was. As much time as I spent in the company of Ones, Twos, and Threes, there was something about these people that felt familiar - that felt like home.

I flashed a small, sad smile, "Let's just hope he knows what he's doing."

Her tone then brightened, "In any case, if there's anything we can do to help you, please don't hesitate to let us know."

I suddenly remembered the menu drafts I'd stuffed into the pocket of my apron, and pulled them out with a flourish, "Actually, the Queen has put me in charge of food for the Illéa Winter Ball. Would you mind looking through my ideas with me?"

The head chef beamed, and gestured us over to a small wooden table with few modest chairs scattered about it. The three of us sat, and I spread the pieces of paper out. We spent the next half hour talking table spreads and desserts until Marlee darted off to fetch the tarts.

It had been a good afternoon. I was well underway with my assignment, and I'd discovered that I had more friends within the palace walls than I ever could have imagined. Between Maxon, my maids, my family, Princess Nicoletta, and now the kitchen staff, I was really starting to believe I could do this.


	7. Nicoletta

**A slightly shorter chapter today, but between the arrival of the new girls and the Ball I assure you there's a lot of action coming up!**

**ilona18 - Those are all very good questions! We'll have to see how Rain compares to America.**

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**I hope you all enjoy Chapter 7!**

* * *

As soon as I heard the Italians had arrived, I sent Lucy with a note to pass on to Nicoletta. Something told me there was an incredibly powerful alliance to be made here - one that might just convince King Clarkson that I would make a worthy princess afterall. I couldn't help but feel anxious as I waited for her response, but the bite-size samples of cake that the head chef had sent up to my room in preparation for the Winter Ball made the wait bearable.

"I love this one!" I said to Mary, pointing to a deep red sponge with cream cheese frosting.

Mary smiled, making notes for me, "That one's red velvet, miss - it's my favourite too!"

Our giggles were interrupted by a sharp knock on my open door. I turn to see Princess Nicoletta, flanked by her cousins Orabella and Noemi, all three of them smiling warmly.

"Lady America!" Nicoletta exclaimed as I stood to welcome her, "Thank you for your kind note - I insisted this sweet maid of yours bring us to you immediately!"

Sure enough, I saw Lucy peering out from behind them, blushing a little but looking undoubtedly amused.

"Your highness," I said with a neat little curtsy, "A pleasure to see you and your cousins again."

"Now, now," Noemi interrupted, both her Orabella stifling laughter, "None of these formalities - we're all friends!"

I smiled and allowed myself to be passed down the line, receiving hugs and kisses from all three ladies.

"I would love for you to meet my parents," Nicoletta insisted, holding both of my hands in hers, "We'll all be having tea in the gardens later this afternoon. You will join us, yes?"

I had the rest of my afternoon free, so I was more than happy to accept her invitation, "Of course, I wouldn't miss it!"

"Excellent, one of us will come for you," she then lowered her voice slightly, her face hardening, "Now, between us ladies, how are things with this prince of yours?"

I bit my lip, "Not bad, but it's hard to say right now."

The three of them frowned, and looked between each other with concern. Nicoletta eventually spoke, "No, no, this will not do. You leave this with me, lovely America. I will see what I can do."

The Italians were so warm and well intentioned, however given the current state of things, I doubted that even they could do anything. This web was far too complex for even the most clever diplomat to untangle.

A couple of hours later Orabella arrived at my door. Winter was truly beginning to set in, so my maids had dressed me in a dainty blue dress with long sleeves and a full skirt that fell to my knees. They'd wrapped a white fur stole around my shoulders, and slipped my legs in a pair of warm white tights. Finally, they'd finished the look off with some dainty black boots and a pair of white gloves - when I looked in the mirror I was reminded of the porcelain dolls I'd sometimes see little Two and Three girls cradling in their arms. It was an incredibly sweet look, and I hoped it would make a good first impression on the Italian King and Queen.

Orabella linked her arm through mine as we walked, like we were old friends. She chatted incessantly about their journey from Italy, and the trouble they'd gone to finding the perfect dresses for the ball. She asked what I would be wearing, and I was forced to admit that I'd left it entirely up to my maids.

"You are lucky to have maids with good taste," Orabella sighed, "I must steal them and take them back to Italy!"

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that!" I laughed.

We were soon out in the gardens, and I loved how refreshing the mild air felt in my lungs. With the arrival of winter, the gardens had become somewhat forgotten, so tea with the Italian royal family was a welcome excuse to escape the palace walls.

We approached a small cluster of tables, each one erupting with the warm sounds of laughter and friendly conversation. I noticed that alongside the pots of tea, there were also a few open bottles of wine circulating, just as I'd come to except. Their festive tendencies were certainly enough to blow away any cobwebs that had accumulated over the past few weeks.

Nicoletta came to steal me from Orabella, who relinquished my arm with a stubborn pout. Nicoletta simply laughed at her cousin's petulance, and led me to over the table she was sharing with her parents. The King was a tall, slim man with a neat beard and bright blue eyes. The Queen was short and voluptuous, with a dazzling smile that stretched across her face as her daughter introduced me.

"Mother, father, this is Lady America. America, this is my father, King Antonio, and my mother, Queen Lucia."

I remembered to curtsy. The King nodded approvingly and gestured for me to take the seat beside him. He looked just as interested in me as his daughter and nieces, "Lady America, a pleasure. I'm sure Nicoletta has told you how fond we all are of you in Italy?"

I bowed my head modestly, "She has, and I must thank you, your majesty. Your support has been a great comfort."

The King shook his head with a kind smile, "No, sweet lady, it is us who should be thanking you. We want to form bonds with Illéa, but first we wanted to see if it was open to change. We see passion in you - a better future for your country."

"I also want to see Illéa change, unfortunately I've got very little influence your majesty," I admitted apologetically.

His eyes brightened, "You have more influence than you say. This Prince Maxon is fond of you - you challenge the core workings of Illéa, but he still keeps you here. We want to help you _win_, Lady America."

The gravity of his words took a moment to sink in - I really _did_ have a powerful ally here. I smiled warmly at both King Antonio and Queen Lucia as Nicoletta passed me a glass of sparkling wine. The four of us lifted our glasses in silent agreement, then drank. The bubbles fizzed in my nose and raised my spirits.

Queen Lucia interrogated me about every detail of the Illéa Winter Ball, insisting that they'd heard great things about it.

"Christmas back in Italy will surely feel like a disappointment, afterwards!" she laughed, "Now that you know the secrets of Illéa's parties, you must come to Italy and plan ours if you do not win this Selection."

Nicoletta's mouth dropped open in horror, "Mother! But of course she will win! We won't have it any other way."

I noticed the King waving to someone in the distance, and turned my head to see Maxon approaching the gathering, his suit crisp and his expression somewhat nervous as he approached the rambunctious tea party. My head snapped back to Nicoletta who was giggling evilly, "I said leave it to me! I insisted he must join us."

"Thank you," I mouthed, although those two words were hardly enough to express my gratitude.

"Prince Maxon," the King addressed, bowing his head to Maxon and gesturing for him to join us, "Please sit with us. My wife was just plotting to steal this Lady America from you and take her back to Italy!"

Maxon laughed warmly, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, "Apologies, your majesties, however I simply can't allow you to do that."

Nicoletta was beaming, attempting to hide her glee by taking any swig of wine.

"Wine for the prince!" The King announced, and within seconds a glass was in Maxon's hand, "Let us make a toast to our blossoming friendship, and to Lady America for opening our eyes to Illéa's potential!"

The Italians roared, and emptied their glasses with enthusiasm. Maxon glanced down at me with wonder etched all over his face, then ducked his head to whisper in my ear, "What have you been up to?"

I giggled, "Nothing beyond the duties of a potential princess, your highness."

He grinned and pressed a kiss to my cheek, before murmuring, "You're incredible."

My cheeks burned, and the Italian royals smiled at the two of us knowingly. In that moment, everything was perfect.

And then that moment ended, and the rebel alarm began to scream.


	8. Unpleasant Surprises

**Apologies for the cliff hanger - I couldn't resist! ;)**

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**I hope you all enjoy Chapter 8!**

* * *

The Italians were loud in times of peace, but in panic they were even louder. Maxon pulled me to my feet, and together we helped the handful of guards shepherd our Italian guests to safety. Nicoletta realised what we were doing, and did everything she could to help, assisting the more elderly and immobile members of the Italian court. Eventually one of the Illéan guards grabbed Maxon by the shoulders and forced him inside; they couldn't risk him being exposed any longer than he had been already. He tried to resist, insisting he wasn't leaving me on my own, but I ignored his protests and continued directing people to the door - getting everyone to safety was the priority.

Once almost everyone was inside, I hazarded a glance out into the grounds. My worst fears were confirmed, and I saw a dozen rebels closing in on us. The closest was heading straight towards Nicoletta, who was supporting an elderly woman. "Help the princess!" I called to the guards, and instinctively moved to place myself between them and the oncoming rebel.

It all happened so quickly. I had no experience in combat, but I jarred the rebel's elbow, throwing off the aim of his gun. Once he were somewhat disarmed, I threw my entire weight at him, knocking him off balance and onto the floor. I may not have been able to fight, but I could make myself as much of an inconvenience as possible.

The rebel clearly hadn't been expecting me to put up any kind of a struggle. He tried to throw me off, but I fought to remain on top of him, pinning him to the ground. He snarled behind an unkempt beard, and spat in my face.

"Mer!"

Aspen's voice came as a complete surprise. I allowed his familiar hands to pull me from the rebel, and at once Aspen placed himself between us. I couldn't see what was going on, but I heard him shout, "Get Lady America inside!"

My common sense snapped back into action, and I tried to get to my feet. Out of nowhere, a shot was fired, and I was thrown into darkness.

* * *

"America, please wake up."

It was Maxon's voice that roused me. It was weak and fractured, but it was still him, and it was the most wonderful sound I'd ever heard in my life. I forced my eyes open.

I was in the infirmary, and judging by the dull heaviness in my limbs, I was pumped full of painkillers. Maxon was sat beside my bed, his eyes ringed with purple. He looked like he'd been crying.

"What happened?" I sighed weakly, trying to raise a hand to my face. Maxon caught my wrist lightly and guided it back down onto the bed.

"Take it easy, darling," he choked, his expression pained, "How are you feeling?"

I took a moment to assess the state of my body, "I don't know. I can't really feel anything."

He laughed weakly, "You were amazing. A rebel tried to attack Princess Nicoletta, but you intercepted him. You saved her life, and Officer Leger saved yours."

"Officer Leger?" I echoed disbelievingly. _Aspen had saved my life._

Maxon nodded, "He placed himself between you and the rebel. They still took a shot at you, but it only caught you in the side. If Officer Leger hadn't been there..."

I shifted my weight, and sure enough there was an ache in my left side that persisted through the haze of medication. It took me a while to process the thought that I'd been shot. It was never something I'd actively imagined, but I was grateful that I'd blacked out and missed the worst of the pain.

"How is Officer Leger?" I asked carefully, but I needn't have worried. Maxon looked touched that I was concerned about the wellbeing of my saviour.

"He's fine - it's what he's trained for. If anything, I'd assume he's angry that the rebels managed to get to you at all! I've extended him an invitation to the Winter Ball, to attend as a guest. My personal form of thanks."

That would be interesting, but in that moment I didn't care how awkward Aspen's presence at the ball would be - I was just relieved he was safe.

Maxon's hand was on my cheek, and his eyes brimmed with grateful adoration, "The Italians are indebted to you. King Antonio is insisting my father recognise you in some way for your bravery. Nicoletta has been telling anyone who'll listen about your actions. You made the news both here and in Italy!"

"Is Nicoletta alright?"

Maxon smiled reassuringly, "She's completely unharmed. It's you we're all worried about. When I've been forced to leave your side for meetings, Nicoletta has insisted on sitting with you in my absence. Although I'm glad I was the one who was here when you woke up."

My eyes widened, "Wait... How long was I out?"

"A little under two days."

_Two days_. My heart skipped a beat. If I'd been out for two days, then that meant one thing, and one thing only, "The new members of the Selection are here."

Maxon sighed, "Yes, they are. They arrived yesterday. I was supposed to be meeting them at breakfast, but I told everyone I had no business meeting them until you were awake."

My stomach twisted. They were here, in the palace. Another eight girls contending for Maxon's heart. For my own sanity, I tried to change the subject.

"So the Winter Ball is tomorrow?"

"Yes," Maxon confirmed gently, tracing his fingers across the back of my hand, "But don't worry, the doctors think you'll be fine to attend if you take it easy."

Panic suddenly flared inside me, "But Maxon, your mother asked me to organise the food!"

Maxon shushed me, chuckling lightly, "Don't get yourself worked up. The head chef has assured us that you've given her more than enough direction to work with, and even insisted we send you her love when she heard what had happened. It sounds like you've done a wonderful job - not that I'm surprised. You're really excelling yourself, darling."

I felt myself glowing with pride, "Do you think your father might be warming up to me?"

"After what you did for the Italians, he's been forced to give you more credit. I think we're making progress."

It wasn't entirely what I'd been hoping for, but we were getting there. Another thought struck me, "What about... Us?"

He looked a little distant, but eventually gave me an answer, "You know how I feel about you, America. Trust is the only issue, and since your slip up on the Report, things are definitely getting better."

Once again, it wasn't entirely what I'd been hoping for, but it was something I could cling to.

"I'm glad," I sighed, suddenly feeling quite vulnerable, "These new girls joining us has made me realise just how much I want to be with you."

Maxon smiled tentatively, and tilted his head towards a small television on a stand in the corner, "I haven't watched their arrival footage yet - perhaps we could watch it together?"

I wasn't sure how I felt about watching it with Maxon, but who was I to say no? I swallowed my anxieties and nodded.

I felt a strange de ja vu watching the footage of the new Selected walking the red carpet at Angeles airport. The Twos and Threes among them were composed, smiling politely, nodding and waving to the public. The Fours were more chatty and excitable - Posie was hugging people, and allowing herself to be reigned in for photos. Rain, the Five, looked beside herself, a wide yet shy smile plastered firmly across her face. She clearly couldn't believe she was there, and she glowed.

I couldn't help but notice the signs the public held; some welcoming the new girls, others supporting the Elite. I spied a handful reading, '_America Is Still Our Princess!_', and my heart swelled. Maxon noticed them too and squeezed my hand.

It was strange watching the makeovers from an outsider's perspective. The girls fawned over their new day dresses - the palace opulence still a novelty to them. I noticed Elise and Kriss in the background, making small talk with the new girls as they had their hair fussed over and their nails painted. I wondered if not being there would put me at a disadvantage.

Without a doubt, the interviews were the most interesting part. Posie was up first, dressed in a sugary pink dress with her fluffy blonde hair tamed into polished ringlets that fell just beneath her shoulders, "Today had been unbelievable. The beauty of the palace is unlike anything I've ever seen. They even managed to do something with my hair - that's a first!"

She laughed, and it was a sweet, infectious sound. Despite my reservations, I found myself hoping that I may be able to make a friend in her.

Iris, Elena and Cyndi were all predictably composed and ladylike, their hands folded in their laps, each of them showering praise on their stylists. So far, so good. Honestly, I was keeping my eyes peeled for a potential Celeste.

Forest and Braelyn were both a bit more interesting. Forest had short, pale blonde hair, and a little pixie face. She bubbled over with excitement exclaiming how pretty all the other girls were, and saying how she couldn't wait to see her bedroom. Braelyn was more closed off; she was fair and freckled with glossy chestnut hair, and her hazel eyes gave away very little. Equally, all of her answers were vague and diplomatic.

I was intrigued to find out more about Rain - the new Five in the competition. She seemed shy, but kind, and looked stunning in her new powder blue dress with her long dark hair braided elegantly. Apparently she lived with her father and three brothers, and was looking forward to spending some time in the company of other girls.

Alyssa was perhaps the most... Interesting. She had striking red hair that perfectly toed the lined between sultry and wild, and piercing green eyes.

"The stylists added more red tones to my hair to make it more vibrant," she drawled, curling a lock around a long finger, "America Singer had better watch out - she's not the only fiery redhead in the Selection anymore!"


	9. Angel

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* * *

The doctors were very reasonable about letting me leave the infirmary. They were the best medical professionals Illéa had to offer, and they'd helped my body do most of it's healing over the two days I'd been out. Before discharging me, they called my maids down and showed them how to change my dressings properly, then I was allowed to leave.

Having heard that I was being discharged, Nicoletta was straight by my side, and insisted on pushing my wheelchair up to my room so that the two of us could get ready for dinner together. Maxon would be meeting the new Selected that evening, and so would I. I was nervous, but Nicoletta had promised she would be by my side every step of the way.

She spent the entire journey telling me how thankful she was that I'd been there, and that I'd been selfless enough to protect her the way I had. Every maid and guard we passed wished me a speedy recovery, and congratulated me on my bravery. It was very surreal. I didn't feel like I was particularly brave, my instincts had simply taken over in a moment of panic.

When we were finally back in my room, I was greeted by hundreds of flowers spilling from vases on every surface, their scent rendering the air sweet and heady. Nicoletta ran from bouquet to bouquet, tearing open the cards and reading them aloud for me.

"'_You're an inspiration to the world_' - The King and Queen of England. '_Your act of bravery has touched us all_' - The German Federation. '_You're a__ true princess_' - The Mayor of Carolina," she gushed, discarding the cards in a pile on my bed after she'd done reading them. That last one touched me more so than any of the others; _my home Province was proud of me_. I wheeled myself over to the bed and shuffled the heavy folds of paper through my fingers.

Nicoletta laughed, pointing to the largest of the arrangements; it was four foot in height and dominated the entirety of my coffee table, "I think this one might be from my parents!"

She passed me the card, and sure enough I was greeted by the Italian emblem. Inside it read -

_Lady America, how can we begin to thank you?_

_You will always be welcome at the Italian court,_

_and we will help you in every way we can._

_Yours,_

_King Antonio and Queen Lucia_

It warmed my heart, and I decided I would make visiting Italy a priority just as soon as The Selection was over, regardless of whether I won.

* * *

My first day of consciousness had left me exhausted, so I was more than happy to sit back and let Nicoletta and my maids fuss over me, getting me ready for dinner. Nicoletta picked out an airy dress constructed in layers of cream lace from my wardrobe, insisting she wanted to make me look like 'the angel I was'. She guided Anne and Mary as they did my hair and makeup, dressing me up like I was her doll. It was almost funny, so I didn't mind at all. My face was a little white, but they brought me back to life with a pearlescent liquid that gave me a natural glow, and a rosy cream that they worked lightly into the apples of my cheeks. My hair was softly curled, and pinned back from my face haphazardly with a selection of dusty pink flowers.

Nicoletta was right - I looked innocent and angelic. Lucy tried to take control of my wheelchair when it was time to head down to dinner, but Nicoletta wrestled the handles away from her, insisting she was the one looking after me today. My maids all chuckled fondly, amused and delighted by my blossoming friendship with the Italian princess.

"What do you think they'll be like?" I asked weakly, referring to the new Selected. Nicoletta simply made a dismissive sound, waving one of her hands.

"Whatever they are like, they won't compare to you. If Maxon doesn't marry you now then my parents will never speak to Illéa again!"

It was a sweet sentiment, but I hoped she was joking. I'd already caused enough trouble.

The dining hall was far busier than it had been the last time I'd eaten there. Most of the guests for the Winter Ball had arrived, and the room was a hive of activity. I didn't know where to look, so I tried to find Maxon instead. He was sat at his usual seat beside his parents, but he shot to his feet when he saw Nicoletta wheel me in.

He was by my side in moments, "America, I didn't expect to see you tonight. I thought you might take your dinner in your room."

I smiled weekly, hoping I could soothe the lines of stress in his forehead, "I'm fine, just a little tired and sore. Besides, I wasn't going to miss out on meeting the new girls."

Maxon frowned, but didn't argue. He directed Nicoletta over to where her family were seated, and she left my side reluctantly.

"She's become very fond of you," Maxon commented as he pushed me over to the Selection's table.

I smiled to myself, "I've become very fond of her."

"You're really helping cement our bonds with Italy. I can't thank you enough."

We approached the table, and my stomach began to twist uneasily. The girls all craned their necks to get a good look at me as Maxon pulled out my chair and helped support me as I transferred into it. Once he'd pushed my wheelchair to the side of the room, he stood behind me with a protective hand on my shoulder, "Ladies, this is Lady America. She only woke up this morning, but she was eager to meet you all. Go easy on her, I'm sure you all have a lot of questions but she's very tired!"

I was then left to fend for myself. I'd been seated between Elise and Posie, with nowhere to hide. The girls eyed at me with a combination of concern, curiosity, and something I couldn't quite read.

I smiled weakly, wanting to break the tension, "It's lovely to finally meet you all. I'm sorry I missed your arrival, but I watched the footage with Maxon this morning."

Maybe it wasn't the best idea to flaunt my relationship with Maxon, but then I decided there was no harm in establishing the fact that I had the advantage here. They all shook their heads and chorused different reassurances, insisting they didn't mind that I'd missed their makeovers, and that my health was more important. Some of them sounded more sincere than others.

"How are you feeling?" Elise asked. I could see Kriss listening for my answer too from across the table. Despite the fact that we were competing, the three of us had developed a strange breed of comradery that we couldn't possibly have with the other girls yet. We may have wanted to beat one another, but equally we didn't want to see each other hurt.

"I'm actually feeling fine," I admitted, taking a sip of my drink, "Very tired, a little achy, but nothing unbearable."

Posie interrupted our conversation, her brown eyes wide, "I couldn't believe it when I heard about the attack. It was so brave of you to intervene."

She sounded very genuine, and for that I was grateful. I attempted a smile, "It's not nearly as admirable as it sounds, I promise! I didn't quite process what I was doing until I was actually doing it."

"Still," Posie sighed wistfully, "I couldn't have done it."

A number of the other girls murmured in agreement.

"Will you be able to come to the Winter Ball, America?" Kriss asked, and I could tell that behind her sweet expression she was quietly hoping I'd be too weak to attend, and she'd be able to commandeer more of Maxon's time.

"The doctors think I'll be fine," I explained, "As long as I take it easy."

"Ooh, I can't wait for the ball!" Forest giggled from a little further down the table, "What's everyone wearing?"

This was a subject everyone was more than happy to discuss, and each of the girls began describing the dresses their maids were working on.

"My maids insisted on a gold dress," Rain explained quietly, looking a little hesitant, "I'm worried it might look a bit much, but I trust them."

"A bit much?" Alyssa laughed, raising an eyebrow, "It's a palace ball! _Nothing _is too much. That said, I'm not one for big poofy dresses. I've asked for a green gown; very sleek, lots of embellishment."

"How appropriate," Braelyn commented, "You'll look like a Christmas tree."

I wanted to laugh, but I resisted. Braelyn had been so mysterious up until this point, but judging by her dry sense of humour and her attitude towards Alyssa, I had a feeling the two of us would get along just fine.

"I'm wearing red," Posie began, "At first I was worried it might be a little daring for me, but then I decided that this is supposed to be about new experiences."

The dress talk continued, however I noticed that a few of the girls weren't joining in. Iris, Elena and Cyndi had struck me as the quieter members of the Selection, and sure enough they kept to themselves, grouped together at the end of the table.

Our conversation was interrupted when King Clarkson stood up, commanding the room's attention, "Honoured guests, now that we're all gathered together, I would like to take a moment to recognise an admirable young lady in our midsts. As most of you now know, two days ago Lady America of the Selection intercepted a rebel who intended to assassinate Princess Nicoletta of Italy, thus saving her life. Lady America has now been discharged from the infirmary, and I would like to make a toast to her bravery and selflessness. To Lady America!"

Everyone in the room -the scores of monarchs and members of the aristocracy- lifted their glasses in my direction. I heard the Italian table roar in celebration, Nicoletta and her cousins standing and blowing me kisses. I blushed aggressively, and met King Clarkson's eyes. I had a feeling that he was doing all of this for show, because it was expected of him by the Italian royal family, however I met his stare with all the strength I could muster, and nodded graciously. I stole a glance at Maxon, whose small smile and fond gaze were brimming with pride. Despite the King's reservations, Maxon's belief in me reassured me that I belonged here.

_Progress_, I thought to myself, _we're making progress._

* * *

**So the new ladies are finally here! What are you thinking so far? Who do you want to see more of?**


	10. Maxon's Promise

**The ball is almost here... Hopefully Maxerica fans will like this chapter!**

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**I hope you all enjoy Chpater 10!**

* * *

Maxon insisted on taking me down to breakfast the next morning, which was heartwarming. The Selection may have been bumped back up to eleven girls, but he hadn't forgotten me. When he pushed my wheelchair into the dining hall, the other girls greeted us with a variety of reactions. Kriss and Elise looked disheartened, as they usually did when they saw Maxon and I together. A few of the new girls looked touched, like it was the sweetest thing they'd ever seen - apparently being injured and weak made me less of a threat. Alyssa tried to look bored, but I could tell by the tension in her jaw that she was gritting her teeth.

Once I was safely in my seat, Maxon kissed my cheek lightly and whispered, "Take it easy today. I want at least one dance with you tonight!"

I couldn't help but smile, especially after he'd kissed me in front of all of the other girls, "I promise."

When Maxon was seated with his parents, I risked a glance at the rest of my table. Rain was smiling at me; she looked radiant in her buttery yellow day dress, "That was really sweet."

"It was," I agreed, then added, "Prince Maxon feels responsible for all of our safety, so if one of us is hurt he takes it quite personally."

"I can't wait to get to know him a little better," Posie sighed, spooning fresh fruit into her bowl. I tried to ignore the pang of anger in my stomach. There was no denying it, I'd become as protective of Maxon as he was of me.

"It's not fair that we didn't get a proper introduction," Alyssa commented, pushing her blueberry waffles aimlessly around her plate, "With the ball, it'll be _days_ before any of us get to talk to him properly."

I tried to play the diplomat, "I believe the ball is supposed to be your form of introduction - it's certainly more exciting than the introductions we got!"

Alyssa shot me a pointed look, "Well obviously, but he'll be too busy entertaining guests to pay any proper attention to us!"

"Actually, Prince Maxon is very good at dividing his attention," Elise chipped in, "At the Halloween Ball he made sure he danced with all of us."

"Perhaps, but from the footage they showed it looked like he danced with _some _more than others," Alyssa pointed out, and I could feel her stare burning into the side of my head.

* * *

I wanted to test my legs before the ball, so after breakfast I challenged myself to walk to the Women's Room. My maids went easy on me, insisting I wear flat shoes instead of my usual heels. I felt a little stiff, but that was to be expected after so many days spent lying down or in a wheelchair.

If there was one benefit of having eight new girls join the Selection, it was that the Women's Room felt alive again. A few of the girls were watching television, and a couple were playing cards. Cyndi was reading in the corner, her long strawberry blonde hair falling in a curtain around her face, keeping her concealed in her own little world. Elena was sat at the window, staring wistfully over the gardens. She looked so elegant, her curly dark hair spilling from a chignon at the nape of her neck. I decided to try and get to know her a little better.

"Have you seen the gardens yet?" I asked, taking a seat beside her. She looked surprised to see me there, but smiled nonetheless.

"No," she admitted, rearranging her hands in her lap, "But I look forward to seeing them."

We sat in silence for a while, just watching a wintry breeze blowing the last of the autumn leaves around the gardens. Eventually Elena spoke, "You're a Five, aren't you? A musician, if I've heard correctly."

I nodded with a small smile, "That's right."

"I'm a Three," she explained, "But I teach music."

This was a revelation. I suddenly found her all the more interesting, "That's wonderful. What do you play?"

"Violin, piano and flute primarily - you?"

"Violin and piano are two of my favourites too, but I also sing."

Her face brightened, "Well, Lady America, if you would ever like to play together, it would be an honour."

I couldn't help but smile, "I'd like that a lot."

* * *

After lunch most of the girls took to their rooms early to begin preparations for the ball. My beauty routine was hardly lengthy, but I was grateful for the excuse to spend a quiet afternoon in my bedroom with my maids. They ran me a chamomile bath, and let me spend a couple of hours lounging in the foam, routinely topping up the hot water. It soothed my aches and pains.

Once my fingers and toes were well and wrinkled, I was wrapped in a fluffy robe and brought a cup of tea in bed. I felt a little guilty for being so indulgent, but Maxon _had _told be to take it easy today. I was quite content to sit back being pampered whilst I listened to my maids chatting away, sharing their opinions of the new girls. The general consensus was that Posie, Forest and Rain seemed sweet, Cyndi and Braelyn seemed quiet but inoffensive, Alyssa seemed like trouble, and Iris and Elena seemed a little aloof and superior.

"Actually, Elena isn't at all superior," I contributed, surprising my maids, "I didn't know what to think of her either, but then I spoke to her this morning and she was nice. I think she just likes to keep to herself."

Just as my maids began to get me ready for the ball, there was a knock at my door. Lucy went to answer, and returned with a wide smile on her face, Maxon following in her wake.

"Maxon!" I exclaimed, delighted to see him, but a little embarrassed to have been caught in my bath robe, "What are you doing here?"

My maids quietly excused themselves, granting us a little privacy. Maxon scooped me up carefully in his arms and carried me over to the side of my bed so we could sit together.

"Don't be silly, you don't need to carry me!"

Maxon just laughed, "I meant it when I told you to take it easy. I'll be holding you to that dance this evening."

I didn't argue - being cradled in Maxon's arms was _far _from the worst thing in the world.

"What are you up to?" I giggled as he set me down on the bed, pulling my robe tightly around myself, "Surely you should be getting ready for the ball."

Maxon smiled wickedly, "This was more important. I wanted to give you something to wear tonight."

He pulled a little velvet box from his pocket, and my heart faltered. My common sense told me that this wasn't an engagement ring, but I couldn't help but wonder. So many times over recent weeks I'd allowed myself to imagine the moment when Maxon would propose, and seeing him holding a ring box was surreal and exciting.

Cradled inside the box was an ornate white gold ring. The setting held a rectangular blue gem that I didn't recognise, surrounded by what I could only assume were diamonds. My eyes were wide as I looked up at Maxon questioningly.

"It's aquamarine, _princess_ cut," he explained, saying the last two words with a playful smile that caused my heart to skip a beat, "I know you're fond of blue, so I hoped you might like it."

"It's beautiful," I sighed, hesitant to believe he could really be presenting me with something so grand.

Maxon shifted in his seat looking a little nervous, "America, have you ever heard of a promise ring before?"

I shook my head.

"They're an old fashioned gesture. People used to give them to one another if they were too young to get engaged, or they didn't have the money to get married immediately. They signify a commitment, not always of the intent to marry. Sometimes it's a promise to remain faithful, or to support one another, or to think about each other every day."

I felt my throat go dry, but I managed to quietly ask, "What promise are you making?"

Maxon took my left hand in his, and slipped the ring onto my middle finger, "I told you you needed to regain my trust, and you've done as I asked. If you continue to trust me, and earn my trust in return, then I promise that I will make this relationship work. I will convince my father to bless our marriage."

My heart raced in my chest, "What about the other girls?"

Maxon frowned, "I need to play the game; I have to take them on dates, but it's all for show. I want you to be able to look at this ring in any moments of doubt, and be reminded where my heart truly lies."

After the past week of uncertainty, this was more than I ever could have hoped for. It was exactly the reminder I needed to _keep fighting_.

"Thank you," I murmured, "It's wonderful."

Maxon smiled softly, and placed a tender yet light kiss on my lips. I quietly realised it was our first proper kiss in weeks, and I melted into his embrace.

When he pulled away, he looked at me seriously, "But, America, you must remember that if I'm making this promise to you, you must promise to fight for me too. We can't afford any mistakes. My father will still use any excuse he can to condemn you."

I met his eyes and nodded firmly, "I promise."

He kissed me again, this time on my forehead, "Thank you."

After that he left me to get ready for the ball, and as my maids fussed over my hair and makeup I couldn't help but stare at the glittering ring on my finger. _Maxon wanted me_. The mere thought sent pleasant shivers down my spine. There was progress to be made, but I still had Maxon's love, and that was the most important thing.

Mary used a little more makeup than usual, applying a pearly pink eyeshadow and and slick of sheer red lipgloss. It was just enough to make a little more of a statement than I usually did, whilst maintaining the natural, dewy look that had become my signature. Anne twisted loose braids into a bun at the nape of my neck, studding it with diamond pins that had been shaped to look like delicate little snowflakes settling in my hair. She held a mirror behind my head so I could admire her handiwork, and I was left speechless.

Anne held her hands in front of my eyes whilst Mary and Lucy removed my dress from it's garment bag, hanging it from the armoire door so I could admire it properly before I put it on. Anne removed her hands, and I was greeted by a sea of blue and white.

The dress was a delicate powder blue, however it faded to a slightly deeper blue at the hem. The sweetheart bodice had a twisting white overlay that resembled a snowdrift, spilling out into icy tendrils onto a full tulle skirt that subtly glittered with every movement.

"Traditionally, people wear green, red, gold and silver to the Winter Ball as they're considered 'festive colours'. We wanted you to stand out, like a glittering snowflake," Lucy explained, her tone giddy.

"It's so perfect," I sighed, stroking my hand over the snowy embellishments, "It truly is perfect. You girls spoil me."

They all laughed, and helped me put it on. They'd also commissioned a pair of icy white slippers that completed the look, but wouldn't hurt my feet. I twirled in front of the mirror - I looked like a snow fairy.

"You look beautiful, miss," Anne sighed, "Now let's get a move on - we have a ball to get you to!"


	11. The Winter Ball

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* * *

The only downside of my beautiful dress was how heavy the skirt felt on my hips. My maids had wrapped an extra layer of gauze around my healing wounds, but it was still uncomfortable. Whilst it wasn't completely unbearable, I found myself leaning on Lucy and Mary for support as they accompanied me down the corridor to meet with the other girls. As my maids has predicted, they were all dressed in varying shades of red, green and metallics. My blue and white gown certainly stood out, but given the way I was currently gripping onto my maids for support, I wasn't sure I liked the attention I was drawing to myself.

Posie hurried over insisting she would support me down the stairs. She really was sweet, and she looked striking in her sheer, lacy red dress. Rain quietly followed suit, looking equally beautiful in a gauzy champagne gown covered in gold sequins. It seemed the two of them had become friends over the past few days, and I was grateful as they linked arms with me, supporting some of my weight.

"Look at Alyssa's face," Posie giggled evilly as we stood grouped together, waiting for the final couple of girls to arrive, "She was so sure she was going to look the best."

Alyssa was perched in a chair, her scarlet lips pursed tightly. Her forest green dress was incredible in it's own way; the top was made from an invisible mesh, with twisting embellishments creeping to her shoulder in a deep V, spiraling down her arms. The silk skirt hugged her every curve, with a large jaunty bow nipping in her waist. Behind her spilled a breathy tulle train.

"She does look amazing though," I sighed, "You all do."

"Perhaps," Posie agreed half heartedly, "But you're the one who stands out. I wish I'd thought to wear a different colour."

"I can't take credit for that decision," I laughed, "I left it completely up to my maids."

Braelyn and Iris were the last to arrive, both of them immaculately turned out. They both looked so regal and poised on an everyday basis, but tonight they'd turned it up a notch. Braelyn's dress was made from grass green taffeta, with a full skirt, ruched sleeves that fell from her shoulders, and a plunging neckline. Iris was a vision in gold, her sweetheart bodice covered in beads, and her tulip shaped skirt made from folds of rich gold velvet.

Sylvia did quick headcount. She looked flustered, but her excitement was also palpable. Once certain we were all present, she lead us down towards the Great Room. Posie and Rain lagged towards the back of the group with me, supporting my weight as we made our way down the stairs.

The Great Room looked absolutely breathtaking. Tiny candles lined every window, ledge and step, and twisting branches covered with tiny lights lined the walls and sprouted from the centre of each table. As we all entered the room, we were handed glasses of champagne, the rims covered with crystallized sugar that resembled ice. The lighting was soft and low, and the music delicate and beautiful.

Conversation bubbled as we entered the room, groups of guests craning for a look at us, no doubt exchanging gossip. Nicoletta flew over, wearing a sparkling emerald green dress that looked beautiful against her dark hair. I couldn't help but notice the elegant silver tiara perched amongst her curls.

"Lady America!" she squealed, stealing me away from the rest of the Selected, "You're out of your wheelchair!"

"Just about," I laughed, allowing her to steer me towards her table, "Your dress is beautiful."

"Yours is prettier," she insisted, stroking the snowy detailing, "Come, I want to introduce you to the King and Queen of England."

There were butterflies in my stomach, but I tried to reassure myself that every royal I'd met so far -excluding King Clarkson- had been nothing short of lovely. Judging by the smiles on their faces as I took my seat, King Franco and Queen Emilia were delighted to meet me.

"Lady America," King Franco addressed, "A pleasure to meet you. Our Italian friends have been singing your praises since the moment we arrived."

I blushed, and bowed my head in the English King's direction, "The pleasure is all mine, your majesty."

"I trust you are recovering well, Lady America?" Queen Emilia asked, her smile kind and gentle, "Your bravery is commendable."

"Yes, your majesty. I've a few aches, but the palace doctor's have worked their magic. I didn't expect to be on my feet so soon."

"Well we're delighted you are, my dear," Queen Emilia added, "We've been dying to meet you."

The English and Italian royal families kept me under their wing throughout dinner, introducing me to all of our neighbouring guests. I was congratulated time and time again, and told more names than I could possibly remember. My head span a little, but my spirits were high. As the champagne flowed and course after course of delicious food was served, I began to search the room for Maxon.

Eventually I spotted him at a table with his parents and the French royal family, who I recognised from news broadcasts. I willed him to look my way, but he was deep in conversation. I reassured myself that we would dance together later.

When dessert was served, people began to float away from their tables, eager to mingle. Two identical teenage boys, one dressed in a navy suit, and one in emerald green, approached our table. I assumed they were a few years younger than me.

"Ah, boys!" King Franco boomed, having had one too many glasses of champagne, "Lady America, may I introduce our sons - Prince Alexander, and Prince Seth."

I bowed my head, and they returned the gesture, joining their parents at our table. When our plates were cleared and the dancing began, the young princes asked Nicoletta and I for the first dance. They were incredibly sweet, well mannered boys, and we happy to oblige. I took Prince Alexander's hand, and allowed him to lead me onto the dance floor.

"I'm afraid I'm not the best dancer, your highness," I warned, but he shook his head with a smile.

"It's fine, Lady America. We can take it slow."

Both princes were confident dancers, as was Nicoletta. Whilst Seth and Nicoletta twirled around the floor, both of them laughing away, Prince Alexander led me at a far slower pace. By now I was sure most people in the Great Room were aware of my injuries, so I hoped that none of them would judge me for my lackluster dancing abilities.

We compensated for our sluggish dancing by chatting as we moved in slow circles around the room. I found out that he and Seth were twins, and they'd just turned fourteen. Despite their identical appearances, Seth was a keen sportsman, whilst Alexander was more invested in his studies.

When the song drew to an end, the twins escorted Nicoletta and I over to some of the seating at the side of the room so I could rest my legs. I pointed them in the direction of the rest of the Selected, assuring them that the girls would be grateful for a dance. Once we were alone, Nicoletta grabbed my hand, her eyes bright.

"So, what's the plan?"

My lips popped open in surprise, "What do you mean?"

Nicoletta rolled her eyes, "What's the plan? How are we going to ensure that you and your prince have a magical evening together?"

I laughed, "I'm not sure there's anything we can do."

"Of course there is! Who is your biggest competition."

"Probably Kriss," I sighed. It was true, but I also had no idea whether Maxon would hit it off with one of the new girls.

Nicoletta raised a cheeky eyebrow, "Then I will ensure that Kriss and I get to know each other this evening. I'm sure there are _plenty _of things the two of us can spend the evening talking about!"

As if he'd somehow read our minds, we both spotted Maxon heading towards us. Nicoletta grinned at me, and sprang to her feet, "Well, I have work to do. Enjoy your evening!"

Maxon's eyes moved slowly from the hem of my skirt up to my face, taking in all of my maid's hard work. He bowed his head before taking the seat beside me, then took my hand and placed a kiss on the promise ring he'd slipped on my finger mere hours earlier.

"What's with all of the formalities?" I giggled, nudging him with my shoulder.

Maxon grinned goofily, "We're in esteemed company, Lady America. Besides, you look more like a Queen tonight than you ever have, and I feel I should treat you accordingly."

A wide smile spread across my face, "You don't look too bad yourself."

"What can I say? I polish up well."

I smiled, suddenly feeling a little nervous, "Is it time for our dance, then? I wouldn't want to hold you up."

Maxon laughed, and placed a gentle finger beneath my chin, "Not yet. I need something to look forward too whilst I do my obligatory rounds. Any words of advice?"

My stomach churned, and I tired not to look too crestfallen. I hated the idea of watching him dance with all of the Selected one by one, but I forced myself to remain composed, "Don't worry, they all seem nice. However, if I may say so, keep an eye out for Alyssa."

Maxon cocked an eyebrow, "Really?"

I nodded, and mouthed the one word that explained everything - _Celeste_.

Maxon's eye darkened, and he nodded once in sombre understanding. He placed a kiss on my cheek, then trailed his lips to my ear, "Rest up - once I've got the rest of my dances out of the way, I intend to sweep you off your feet."

His breath at my ear caused the hairs on my neck to stand upright. I hated that I had to share him, but nonetheless I let him go. I forced myself to look away as he lead Braelyn out onto the dance floor.

I was graced with a constant stream of visitors as I sat nursing my champagne. Everyone wanted to hear about how I'd saved Princess Nicoletta, and I was grateful for the distraction. Even Kriss and Elise can to visit me once they'd had their dances with Maxon, and Kriss was able to shake off Nicoletta for five minutes. They both looked a little lost, but equally beautiful; Kriss wore a simple yet timeless strapless silver ballgown, and Elise's gold dress was heavily embroidered, spilling out into frothy layers from the knees down. They brought me a little plate of chocolate dipped fruit from the dessert table, and the three of us shared our opinions of the new girls. Apparently Elise and Iris had become quite friendly, and Kriss had taken a couple of walks with Cyndi. It seemed that none of us were particularly fond of Alyssa, and I could only hope that Maxon's intuition told him the same thing that ours had told us.

Eventually we were interrupted by a man in a simple black suit. I glanced up and found myself locked onto an achingly familiar pair of eyes.

_Aspen_.

"Lady America," he began, "I'm glad to see you're recovering well."

This was so like Aspen. Of course he would be so bold as to address me whilst I was with two other member of the Selection - he probably thought it would look less suspicious.

I tried to muster some confidence in my voice, "Yes, Officer Leger, and all thanks to you it would seem. Prince Maxon tells me I owe you my life?"

Aspen bowed his head with a smile, "You owe me nothing, Lady America. I was just doing my duty. However, I was wondering if I may have this dance?"

I smiled lightly, "I suppose it's the least I can do."


	12. The King & The Guard

**So there were mixed responses to Aspen's appearance! I didn't want to completely forget about the poor boy ;)**

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* * *

As Aspen led me out onto the dance floor, I tried not to look as uncomfortable as I felt. Having my hand in his after I'd resolved to love Maxon and Maxon alone felt entirely wrong, yet it also sparked so many fond memories. As much as I tried to repress my feelings for him, the fact remained that Aspen Leger would always be my first love.

But I intended for Maxon Shreave to be my last.

"You'll have to be gentle with me," I warned, trying not to meet Aspen's eyes, "I'm still a bit fragile."

Aspen laughed, "I'm always careful with you Mer - you're the last thing I'd ever want to break."

I didn't know how to respond, so I just let Aspen lead me around the dance floor. True to his word, he took it slow and easy, persistently trying to catch my eye. I resisted.

"Talk to me, Mer," Aspen sighed, his voice low, "I'm not an idiot. I can tell you've fallen for him, but you have to give me a sign. Should I keep fighting, or would I just be hurting both of us?"

I took a steadying breath and looked up at him, "Aspen, surely the fact that I'm still here answers that question."

Aspen shook his head. He was trying so hard to remain composed, but I could tell he was becoming more and more frustrated by the second. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Maxon dancing with Alyssa, and my hand tensed around Aspen's.

"You're avoiding the question, Mer. I want to hear the words coming directly from your mouth."

His eyes were hard, and I could tell there was no getting away from this without giving him the concrete answer he wanted.

"Fine. I'm here because I'm fighting for him, because I want to be his wife."

"You seriously want to be a princess, Mer? Come on. I know you, and life as a royal is not for you."

I frowned - why was Aspen so convinced I couldn't do this?

"It's not about being a princess, it's about the fact that I want to be with him. Besides, I'm doing just fine in the palace; I'm making valuable connections, and Maxon thinks I'd be a fine princess. Maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do."

Aspen raised a disbelieving eyebrow, "I know you better than you know yourself."

At that moment I wanted to physically push Aspen away. Who did he think he was? Yes, we'd shared many intimate moments, but ultimately our relationship bubbled down to stolen kisses in a dark, cramped treehouse. He _didn't_ know me better than anyone. Maxon and I's relationship had been surreal and turbulent, but through it's course we'd truly got to know one another. Maxon believed in me, whereas Aspen underestimated me.

"Excuse me, Officer Leger, but my side rather hurts and I think it's probably best that I sit the rest of this one out."

Aspen's expression softened; he was angry, but he didn't want to lose me, "Mer, come on-"

"_Thank you_, Officer leger," I interrupted firmly, in no mood to listen to rest of what he had to say, "I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening."

On the way back to my seat, I picked up a glass of champagne from one of the silver trays circulating the room, and drank gratefully. The crisp bubbles distracted me from the altogether unpleasant taste Aspen had left in my mouth. I took a seat and reluctantly watched Maxon finish his dance with Alyssa. She wore a sultry smile, and I noticed that her manicured hand had crept from his shoulder to the back of his neck. Thankfully, it seemed that Maxon was striving to maintain a respectable distance between them. He was wearing a polite smile - nothing like the smiles the two of us exchanged. My conversation with Aspen had brought to light just how deeply I cared for Maxon, and I eagerly hoped that Alyssa was the last girl he had to dance with. I spent the rest of the song anxiously rubbing my thumb over my promise ring, reassuring myself.

Maxon finished his dance with Alyssa, and didn't head back over to the corner where the rest of the Selected were huddled. My heart skipped happily - was it time for our dance? Instead, he headed back to the table he was sharing with his parents and the French royal family, and asked the French princess to dance. My stomach knotted when I saw the coquettish smile on her pretty face, and whilst I didn't want to watch the two of them dancing, my curiousity got the better of me. They held each other at a respectable distance, however they were clearly familiar with one another, and spent their dance laughing at private jokes. The knot it my stomach tightened.

Mercifully, the song came to an end, and this time Maxon headed in my direction. His hair was a little messy from so many hours spent dancing, and his cheeks were tinged pink, but he looked genuinely happy as he offered me his hand.

"My darling, may I have this dance?"

I tried to push the image of him dancing with the French princess of of my mind, and placed my hand in his, where it belonged, "I'd be delighted."

The song was blissfully slow, so I didn't need to worry about my injuries hindering me. Besides, I always felt wonderfully secure when I danced with Maxon, and sure enough his arms were strong and certain around me. He held me close, and I rested my head on his shoulder.

"I hope I didn't leave you waiting too long."

I laughed lightly, "You're worth waiting for."

Maxon chuckled, but then sighed sadly, "I suppose we've both become quite good at waiting, haven't we? I'm completely and utterly bored of the Selection now."

"What do you think of the new girls?"

I felt him shrug, "Like you said, they're all nice. Posie and Braelyn made me laugh, but there were no fireworks."

"There better not have been," I murmured teasingly into his neck.

We danced in silence for a while, just enjoying one another. Songs came and went, but I didn't entirely notice them. The dancers surrounding us blurred into insignificance.

"Who was that last girl you were dancing with?" I eventually asked, trying to keep my tone innocently inquisitive.

Maxon's eyes widened in surprise, "Oh, that was Princess Daphne. She's an old friend of the family. Why?"

I flashed my most innocent smile, "No reason. Just curiosity really."

My answer seemed to appease him, and we continued to dance gently until we noticed the crowds beginning to thin as the first of the guests took themselves off to bed. Abandoned glasses were scattered about every surface, and the candles were beginning to burn themselves out. A figure approached us, and I realised with a sinking heart that it was King Clarkson.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said without the slightest bit of remorse, "I was wondering if I could have this next dance?"

Maxon and I exchanged a hesitant, confused look, however there was nothing either of us could say. Maxon took my left hand and brushed a kiss against my ring, before handing me to his father. Having my hand in the King's, and feeling his hand on my hip felt incredibly wrong. Every nerve in my body screamed with discomfort.

"Lady America, you look lovely this evening."

I forced an effortless, charming smile across my face, "Thank you, your majesty. This evening has been wonderful. You and the Queen are unrivaled hosts."

King Clarkson nodded his head, "Yes, my wife is an excellent hostess. The picture of grace and diplomacy - you could learn a lot from her."

"I'm certainly trying to, your majesty."

"So it would seem," he murmured, "It must be said, you have certainly upped your game since we last spoke."

I didn't respond - what could I possibly say?

The King seemed unphased by my silence, "Your little spat with Celeste certainly threw a spanner in the works, but it turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Aren't the new ladies lovely?"

I nodded my head, happy to play his game, "Yes, your majesty. I've become quite fond of Posie and Rain."

"You would become fond of the Five, wouldn't you?" he snorted, "Whilst I can only hope that my son takes to one of the new ladies, I must reluctantly commend you on your recent conduct."

I widened my eyes innocently and questioned, "Your majesty?"

"Your little stunt with the Italian princess has put us all in a good light. No doubt you've won Illéa a powerful new alliance, and as a King, I must thank you for that. However, as a father, I am still not convinced that you are the right woman for my son."

I nodded, trying to be as diplomatic and graceful as I could, "Thank you for your honesty, your majesty. I only hope that I'm able to change your mind."

"We'll see," the King replied uncertainly, pursing his lips.


	13. Duets

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**I hope you enjoy Chapter 13!**

* * *

The week following the Winter Ball was quite the anticlimax. Guests slowly filtered away, leaving the palace eerily quiet, and the atmosphere in the Women's Room was sour as most of the girls hadn't spent as much time with Maxon at the ball as they'd hoped. Whenever I spent time in there, I could feel their pointed stares; everyone had noticed that Maxon had saved most of his dances for me, but I tried to downplay it, claiming it must have been because he felt bad about my injuries.

Saying goodbye to Nicoletta was harder than I'd expected, almost like saying goodbye to family. When May and my parents had come to visit, they'd left before I had a chance to say my goodbyes, however saying goodbye to Nicoletta and her parents formally was almost harder than not saying goodbye at all.

"America, my dear friend," Nicoletta sighed, pulling me tightly into her arms, "I will miss you."

I tried to ignore the lump in my throat, keeping up appearances in front of the King and Queen, "I'll miss you too. The palace will be dull without you."

She then held me at arms length, observing me sternly, "You will come to Italy as soon as this Selection is over, yes?"

I laughed and pulled her in for another hug, "Of course I will."

Nicoletta laughed in response, but I could hear a strangled sob caught in her throat. Whilst we embraced, she whispered fervently into my ear, "And you will be a princess too the next time we meet."

I shot her an incredulous look, but she was entirely serious. Nicoletta and her parents evidently believed I had the Selection in the bag. King Antonio and Queen Lucia both hugged me like we were family, then they were gone before I could fully process what was happening. I could feel their absence like a weight in my stomach.

In an attempt to fill the void they'd left, I organised an afternoon of music with Elena. A few of the girls overheard us planning in the Women's Room one morning over tea, and insisted that we bring our instruments there so that they could listen to us play.

The afternoon arrived, and Elena and I set up our instruments in a corner. Most of the girls pulled chairs over, whilst some were more than happy to sit on the sit on the floor, the skirts of their colourful day dresses pooling around them. Alyssa didn't join us, instead she sat moodily in front of the television, asking how she'd be able to hear her shows through all of our noise.

I was all set to ignore her, but Braelyn spoke up on our behalf, "Oh, be quiet will you? This will be far better than your trashy shows anyway. Give it a chance!"

Braelyn was so poised and sharp-tongued that even Alyssa didn't dare argue with her. Instead she put the screen on mute, and eyed us from across the room.

Elena picked up her flute, and I placed my violin under my chin. We were both familiar with all the classics, and we'd worked out a short set between us, each of us playing our instrument of choice. It had been months since I'd played with another musician, and spending time with a kindred spirit was refreshing.

The girls all sat in peaceful silence as we played, some tapping their fingers in tune, or absently swaying their heads and shoulders in time. My mother had always told me that if your audience did these subconscious little things it meant they were swept away in the song, and you were doing a great job. Elena made for a wonderful partner. Her timing was on point, and her technical skills were admirable. She was usually so regal and aloof, but when she played she became somewhat undone. She seemed more passionate, more _alive._

We finished our set and the girls all applauded. Elena and I barely had time to curtsy before Kriss called, "America, you should sing for us!"

I looked up at her in surprise. Kriss wasn't exactly my cheerleader, so hearing her encouraging me to do something was very strange indeed.

"I haven't warmed up," I replied lamely, but Kriss was insistent.

"Please sing for us," she sighed, looking around at the other girls, trying to rally their support, "You were wonderful that time I listened to you practice."

Other people were beginning to get exciting, piping up with encouragements of, "Oh please, America," and, "We really would love it."

Eventually I gave in, and Elena laughed lightly in amusement. I told her the song, and she nodded confidently, switching her flute for her violin.

It had been so long since I'd last sung in front of an audience, and as I began to pour out my heart for these girls -so many of whom I barely knew- it dawned on me that I would rarely be able to perform like this again. If I didn't win and I became a Three, I would have to teach music instead like Elena, and if I did win then I wasn't sure it was behaviour becoming of a princess. Sylvia would undoubtedly have something to say about it.

Halfway through the song, I spotted a figure at the door. Queen Amberley dropped into the Women's Room on occasion, and upon seeing the girls gathered at mine and Elena's feet, she quietly came and took a seat nearby. Her smile was the warmest I'd ever seen it.

The song came to a close, and I curtsied deeply in the Queen's direction. She lifted her hands and clapped enthusiastically along with the other girls.

"That's quite the voice you have, Lady America," the Queen commented brightly, causing the rest of the girls to notice her presence, "You live up to your name."

I blushed furiously and bowed my head, "Thank you, your majesty."

Queen Amberley's lips stretched into a fond smile that was all for me, and my heart glowed in my chest.

She cleared her throat and addressed the rest of the room, "My apologies for interrupting, ladies, however I have a private matter to discuss with Lady Kriss, Lady Elise, and Lady America. Would you mind giving the four of us a few minutes alone, please?"

The rest of the girls hurried to their feet and headed out into the corridor, whispering to one another as they left. No doubt they were all wondering what the Queen had to say to us that was so private. I helped Elena pack up her instruments safely, and she followed the others out of the room.

Queen Amberley gestured for Kriss, Elise and I to join her, then began to explain, "Ladies, as my son has already mentioned, the three of you have been incredibly patient throughout this process. The holiday season is almost upon us, and I can imagine you must be missing your families terribly."

My heart skipped a beat, _were our families coming to visit again?_

"Since there are currently eleven of you left, it would be improper to schedule another family visit until you have once again been narrowed down to the Elite, however Maxon and I have come up with a compromise in the meantime.

"If you leave the palace without Maxon, you sacrifice your place in the Selection, however you are allowed to leave if Maxon is with you. The week before Christmas, Maxon will return to one of your home Provinces with one of you for a few days."

Kriss, Elise and I shared looked of disbelief. The idea of Maxon coming to our Province, spending time with our family, and sharing a few days with _us alone _was more wonderful than any of us dared to believe. Of course, there was a catch. Only one of us would receive such a prize.

"Sylvia and I have put together a little test to decide which of you will be returning home with Maxon," the Queen continued, her eyes bright, "It'll be quite informal, since it's just the three of you, nothing to stress about. It'll simply test you on everything you've learned here thus far. It'll be taking place a week today in my office, so you've all plenty of time to brush up beforehand."

It didn't take me long to decide that I _had _to win the trip home with Maxon. The idea of having him alone for a few days, with just my family, was so tempting and fantastic that it made my heart ache. No King Clarkson lurking around the corner, no other girls to share him with - just Maxon and my family. I imagined him sat at my family dining table laughing with my father, or sitting on my bed with me. The thought gave me chills.

My maids helped me study, keeping my books and notes in order for me and testing me a few times a day. I was glad I'd taken those extra lessons with Sylvia. If I put my mind to it, there was no reason why I couldn't win. King Clarkson had said himself that whilst Kriss was the pretty one and Elise was the one with connections, _I_ was the one with questions and ideas. I was the one who sought out answers and information, and I was the one who would be going home with Maxon before Christmas.


	14. Rebels

**Sorry for the lack of Maxerica this past couple of chapters - I promise there's plenty to come!**

**There were a fair few reviews of the last chapter, so my replies are at the bottom.**

**I hope you enjoy Chapter 14!**

* * *

I'd been so busy studying for the test that I didn't realise Maxon had started taking the other girls on dates until I heard it being discussed one morning in the Women's Room. I'd been so cooped up in my room with my books and notes that I hadn't seen much of anyone else, and I thought it might be a good idea to show my face. Everyone but Iris was gathered having tea, and it appeared that no one was under false pretenses about where she might be.

"It's about time," Braelyn laughed dryly, "The longer he left it, the even more tight lipped and superior she was getting."

"She's one of the last, isn't she?" Forest asked, spoonful sugar generously into her teacup.

Alyssa crossed her arms and leaned back from the table, "He hasn't taken me on a date yet. One can only assume he's leaving the best till last."

I pursed my lips and exchanged a wry look with Braelyn. As sweet and lovely as Posie and Rain were, Braelyn was quickly becoming my favourite member of the Selection; her no nonsense attitude and quick wit were refreshing in this world of giggling girls and royal pomp.

"Regardless, you must all be making a good impression," I contributed with a small smile, trying ignore the jealousy writhing inside me, "Last time Maxon eliminated a fair few girls before he even had a chance to date them."

Alyssa rolled her head around to me lazily, drawling, "We _know. _Isn't that why we're here or something?"

I nodded, refusing to get sucked into her pettiness, "Yes. Your provinces were drawn from again as Prince Maxon was hasty in eliminating your original entrants."

"Or was it because he realised he'd made a mistake and didn't want to marry any of you?" she replied with a raised eyebrow, daring me to react.

My jaw tightened in anger at the suggestion. I glanced over at Kriss, and she looked just as aggravated as I felt. I tried to remain calm as I replied, "Well, we'll just have to see won't we?"

She looked at me like I was something unpleasant on the bottom of her shoe, "Yes, I'm sure we will."

Alyssa was completely insufferable. Maxon _had _to eliminate her soon, otherwise I might be forced to leave the Selection voluntarily.

* * *

It was the night of the first Report with all of the new girls, so my maids were pushing even harder to make sure that I stood out. Usually my hair and makeup took no time at all, but tonight they spent a good half hour simply discussing what they were going to do with me before they even picked up their combs and makeup brushes. I'd invested myself in some reading whilst they settled on a look, so by the time they got to work on me I had no idea what to expect.

My hair was styled meticulously, not a single strand out of place. It was pulled back with a braid on each side, feeding into a glossy, twisted chignon. Mary had made my eyes smokey and dramatic, defined my eyebrows a little, and painted my lips with the same sheer red gloss she'd used for the Winter Ball. I looked perfectly groomed and regal, and whilst the look felt somewhat alien, it made me feel glamorous and quietly powerful.

Lucy helped me into my dress, a daring red number with long lacey sleeves and a trailing skirt. When I hazarded a glance in the mirror, I looked older than I ever had before, but in the best possible way. I looked elegant, mature, and put together; a woman who was ready to marry and help rule a country.

It seemed that the new girls were all taking their time getting ready, as when I arrived for the Report I found myself alone with Kriss and Elise. They'd both made an extra effort too; their makeup a little brighter, their dresses a little more extravagant.

Kriss sighed as they three of us took our seats together, "It wasn't long ago that the three of us appeared on our first Report."

"But it feels like a lifetime ago," I agreed, offering the two of them a sympathetic smile. The new girls joining the Selection had created a strange solidarity between the original members of the Elite.

"When do you suppose Maxon will make the first elimination?" Elise asked quietly, and Kriss and I both frowned.

"Soon, I hope," I replied, placing a comforting hand over Elise's, "He's taken everyone on a date now, so he must have an inkling of who he'll be sending home first."

Kriss's bottom lip puckered. She sighed again, looking defeated, "It's strange, isn't it? Whilst I didn't like it, I'd come to terms with the fact that Maxon had relationships with both of you. The idea of him spending time with the others is different... I hate it."

I nodded, attempting a sad smile. I knew exactly what she meant. It didn't help that at this point I'd yet to talk to Maxon about any of his dates, and I had no idea how he felt about the girls.

"Posie is so pretty and kind," Kriss continued, her eyes looking vaguely watery, "She's always talking about their date, and I couldn't blame him for falling for her."

"It's Braelyn I'm worried about," Elise contributed, "She's so poised, yet outspoken. She's brazen and beautiful, but she's also so intelligent. Most concerning of all is the fact that even though I know she's competition, I can't help but like her. She's magnetic.

I tried to look as sympathetic as I could, but I couldn't deny that I was fond of both Posie and Braelyn. Kriss and Elise were right to sing their praises -both girls had innumerable attractive qualities- however I still trusted Maxon. He wasn't the sort to fall in love with someone on a first date, especially when he already claimed to love one girl, and had complicated relationships with two others. I felt a pang of doubt, and glanced down at my promise ring for reassurance.

_I'm keeping my side of the promise_, I thought to myself, _and I trust Maxon to keep his._

As expected, all of the new girls had gone to extra lengths to make sure that they looked perfect for their first Report. Their dresses were a sea of blues and pinks and similar delicate shades - the colours favoured by myself and Kriss, I couldn't help but notice. To my unspoken delight, my red gown stood out just as my maids had predicted. When Maxon entered the room with his parents, he looked my way with a warm smile. I tugged my ear, and to my relief he returned the gesture.

* * *

After the Report, I returned to my room in a happy daze, excited at the possibility of seeing Maxon later that evening. As pretty as my hair looked, the tight style was starting to make my head ache, and I was looking forward to removing the pins and letting my fiery waves fall free.

When I entered the room, I was surprised to find it in complete darkness. Usually my maids would be waiting for me, but they were nowhere to be seen. I flipped the light switch, and my heart stopped.

My maids were there, but they were on their knees with their hands bound behind their backs, rags stuffed in their mouths to keep them silenced. They were joined by half a dozen men and one woman, all of them dressed in dirty plainclothes, grime smeared across their faces and in their hair. Within a moment, one of the men pulled dragged Lucy from the ground, and pressed a blade to her throat. I could see the pure, undiluted fear flashing in her eyes.

The woman addressed me before I had time to react. I vaguely recognised her, and realised she was the same woman who had curtsied to me that day I'd ended up in a tree escaping the rebels.

_Their Northerners_, I thought to myself with relief, _so why are they threatening Lucy?_

"Lady America," she sang, feigning a curtsy, "We've urgent matters to discuss, and you're going to behave yourself and give us the information we need. We don't want to hurt anyone, but we can't risk you setting off the alarm now, can we?"

I silently prayed that Maxon would waste no time in coming to see me. I questioned whether I could face this alone. Locking my hands together to stop them shaking, I said, "Please, don't hurt her. What do you want?"

"Good girl," she praised with a smiled, gesturing for me to sit at the end of my bed. I did as I was told, and she began to explain, "We know about the diaries. We had a theory, but your presentation confirmed they are indeed inside the palace."

I tried to keep my expression blank, but she seemed unphased and continued her story, "I don't think you're all that different to us. The broadcast was cut off, but we knew what you were getting at - you want to collapse the caste system."

I swallowed. Hard. The woman noticed my discomfort and grinned widely. She had me figured out, and she knew it, "Well, surprise, surprise, we also want to eradicate the castes, and we know that exposing how corrupt Gregory Illéa was is the key. We're not alone; our Northern cousins also want to collapse the system, however they're methods are a little less... _delicate _than ours, as I'm sure you've discovered by now."

I simply nodded in response, stealing glances to the man who held Lucy captive. She was trembling behind the blade that bit into her skin.

"America, you can put a stop to this. Tell us where the diaries are hidden, and the attacks will cease. We'll use them to get rid of the castes - isn't that what you want?"

I took a deep breath, and forced myself to look the woman in the eye. If I were to handle this, it would involve some smooth lying, "You're right, I have read some of the diaries, however I couldn't tell you where they're kept even if I wanted to. Maxon gave them to me as he knew I'd find them interesting, however since that Report the King has made sure they're well out of my reach."

The woman gritted her teeth, "The Prince gave them to you once - he'll give them to you again if you ask."

I shook my head, "Maxon only has as much power as his father grants him, and the King isn't my biggest fan since I suggested getting rid of the castes, as I'm sure you can imagine."

The atmosphere in the room deflated, and I noticed the knife at Lucy's throat relax a little. The rebels were beginning to understand that they weren't going to get the information they wanted out of me.

I wasn't naive enough to believe that they would leave empty handed, so I attempted to propose a risky compromise, "If I may, I still think I can help you."

The woman looked surprised, but intrigued, "Go on?"

I spoke with all the confidence I could muster, "Maxon has openly told me that once he has convinced his father, he intends propose to me. He wants to make me the Princess, which means that in a couple of years, I'll be Queen.

"You're right, I _do_ want to collapse the caste system. I know what it's like to go hungry, to see loved ones being forced to resort to theft in order to stay alive. But when I'm Queen, I'll have the power to put things right - peacefully, without conflict."

She looked unconvinced, "That's a very nice idea you have there, but who's to say the royals will go for it?"

I bit my lip, then remembered something I could use as ammunition, "The new support system that was rolled out a couple of months ago - Maxon arranged that after _I _told him about my family and I going hungry. He's open to change. He understands that the system doesn't work, and once he's King, I know he'll make things better. I'll make sure of it."

I could tell she was beginning to crumble, "The idea has merit. God knows, we'd all rather this country changed without bloodshed."

I attempted a halfhearted smile, and the woman nodded in the direction of the man holding Lucy. He dropped the knife from her throat, and she fell the floor. As she lay there whimpering, I had to force myself not to rush to her side.

"We will do what we can to stop our Southern cousins attacking for the time being, although we cannot promise that we won't stop our raids. If we can find those diaries, we will."

I pursed my lips, but nodded once in understanding.

Her expression darkened, and she added, "However, Lady America, if you _don't_ win the Selection, we will not be able to guarantee your safety, nor that of the people you love. We strive to be as peaceful as possible, however we cannot afford to have our time wasted."

Fear coursed through my veins, however I tried to sound strong as I replied, "I understand. I won't disappoint you."

She smiled wryly, and gestured for the rebels to head out. I'd no idea how they'd managed to get into my room undetected, but I didn't care. The moment I knew it was safe to do so, I flew to Lucy's side, cradling her to my body.

Just before she left through the window, the woman turned to me one final time, "Good luck, Lady America. We'll be keeping an eye on you."

* * *

**Sarasmile247 - That's so lovely, thank you!**

**kassoug4 - Fingers crossed she does! Thank you.**

**ilona18 - Clarkson is a tricky one. There's an elimination coming soon!**

**Guest - Fingers crossed!**

**prnamber3909 - Thank you so much!**

**marissalara97 - Thank you so much for reading!**

**lilythemermaid - Eep, thank you! I love how your Province visits are panning out.**

**Dhenn618 - Your reviews are always so lovely, thank you!**

**maggiebswim - Sorry for torturing you! Thanks for reading.**

**CarrieTheReader - Oh no, I hope it didn't come across that way! I just wanted a way for Mer to see her family for Christmas :)**

**Guest - Thank you so much!**

**Guest mih - That's lovely, thank you for reading!**

**magicdance123 - I can't quite picture her house at the moment - we'll see!**


	15. Princess America

**Plenty of action _and _some Maxerica in this chapter - I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

As soon as we were alone, I helped untie Mary, Lucy and Anne. All three of them were shaking, but true to form Mary and Anne both helped me soothe Lucy the moment they were free, pushing aside any trauma of their own. Fat sobs tore from Lucy's lips, and she convulsed in my arms. I held her tightly, and she clung to me with shaking fingers.

"Are any of you hurt?" I asked hesitantly - if the rebels had harmed them, I would never be able to forgive myself.

Mary and Anne shook their heads, both of them stroking Lucy's hair and whispering words of comfort.

"You were so brave, miss," Mary sighed, her voice trembling, "Will you tell Prince Maxon?"

I swallowed a lump of uncertainty forming in my throat. _Should I tell Maxon?_

"I think I will," I decided, "At very least, he has to know they managed to breach the palace."

Anne's lips twisted, "You should tell him what they want - tell him he has to choose you."

I pressed my fingers to my temples, "It won't help - the King definitely won't allow it if he knows it's what the rebels want. It's better Maxon doesn't know. We just have to make sure I win."

They both nodded, and I even felt Lucy nod weakly against my chest.

"You will, miss. You will," Mary sighed.

The four of us remained on the floor for a few minutes, just holding one another and letting some of the shock subside. Eventually, I knew I had to take control, "Mary, Anne, you need to get Lucy to the infirmary. Tell them what happened. I need to talk to Maxon."

They sprang to action quickly, scooping Lucy up between them and heading out of the door. I kicked off my stupid high heels, slipped on some flat shoes, and began looking for Maxon. I had no idea where he could be, but I knew I had friends in the castle who could help me.

I headed down the corridor, asking every guard or maid I recognised if they'd seen Maxon. Most them apologetically informed me that they hadn't seen him since before the Report, however I eventually encountered a maid who was sure she'd seen him.

"He was with Lady Kriss," she buzzed, obviously happy she could be of assistance, "They were heading to her room by the looks of it. You say it's an emergency, miss?"

"Yes, I have to see him right now," I insisted, eager to get moving.

"Would you like me to show you the way to her room, miss?"

"Please," I insisted, "We need to hurry."

Thankfully the maid was young and sprightly, and she wasted no time in leading me around the corner onto a new corridor. Kriss's door was down the far end, and I rapped my knuckles eagerly against the wood.

At first there was no answer, so I knocked again. Eventually Kriss came to answer, looking irritated that her private time with Maxon had been interrupted. When she opened the door to discover me on the other side, she looked even more peeved.

"America?" she asked, reluctant to let me inside, "What do you want?"

"Is Maxon in there?" I pleaded, "It's an emergency, I really need to see him."

Maxon must have heard me, because he was behind Kriss in an instant. He looked confused yet concerned to see me, "America, what's wrong?"

My bottom lip began to tremble, and I hated myself for losing control like this in front of Kriss, "Maxon, there were rebels. They were in my room, they threatened my maids."

Maxon pushed past Kriss and pulled me into my arms just as tears began to spill down my cheeks. He stroked my hair and asked, "Did they hurt you? Are they still in the palace?"

I shook my head, "No, they just wanted to scare me. They're gone now, but I don't know how they got in."

For all of his claims that he couldn't handle crying women, Maxon seemed to handle it very well when it really mattered. He held me tight, and I clung to him as Lucy had clung to me moments earlier. My vision was blurred by tears, but I heard him turn and say, "I'm sorry Kriss, but I need to handle this. I hope you can understand."

Before I could register Kriss's reaction, Maxon was leading me down the corridor. I barely had time to question where we were heading before Maxon asked, "Are you sure they didn't hurt you?"

I shook my head, "No, they didn't touch me, but they threatened to. They had my maids tied up, and they held a knife to one of their throats."

Maxon was about to reply when the alarm began to screech. He cursed under his breath, and hurried me in the opposite direction to where we'd been heading. He checked in both directions to see if we were alone, before revealing the door to another safe room. He shepherded me inside and pulled the door shut behind us.

"They must have come back in after they left your room," He murmured, pulling me down onto a long bench where I curled up in his arms.

"They're Northerners," I managed to choke, hoping it would reassure him somewhat. I knew that being apart from his mother and the rest of the Selection during an attack would make him uneasy. I felt his shoulders relax a little at this information.

"Well, that's something," he sighed, "I'm so sorry, America, they shouldn't have been able to get to you like that."

I shook my head, hating to see him blame himself, "Maxon, it's not your fault."

"But it is," he insisted, "If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have to deal with any of this. What did they even want?"

"The diaries," I whispered, "I told them I had no idea where they were kept, and they must have believed me because they left."

Maxon held me tighter, "I suspected that might be the case."

When I'd had a chance to calm down, I dried my eyes on the cuff of one of my red, lacy sleeves, "I'm so sorry about this. It was wrong of me to interrupt your time with Kriss. If I hadn't, you'd be in the royal safe room with everyone else right now."

Maxon shook his head, looking down at me like I was being utterly ridiculous, "America, I couldn't care less. I'm glad you came to me. Besides, I can hardly begrudge any time spent alone with you."

Despite everything that had happened, Maxon was still able to make me smile. I doubted there was any situation I could be put in where Maxon's presence wouldn't be able to make me feel so much better. I felt a little self conscious for breaking down in front of him, but I reassured myself that it was all part of trusting one another.

"It's not fair to do this to another group of girls," Maxon groaned, pressing a hand to his forehead, "I need to make an elimination - soon."

I didn't know if it was proper to ask Maxon about his relationships with the new girls, but my sick curiousity got the better of me, "Who do you think you'll send home first?"

Maxon looked surprised at my question, but he simply shrugged, "Honestly, it doesn't matter. I have no preferences."

I felt some of the jealously that had been eating away at my insides subside. Hearing Maxon voice his utter indifference towards the new girls was a relief.

"Well, you could have had us fooled," I teased, nudging him with my shoulder.

Despite my lighthearted tone, Maxon looked hurt. He pulled away from me a little, and asked, "Really? Did you honestly believe even for a moment that I had feelings for any of them?"

I nudged him again, trying to diffuse the tension, "Oh come on, Maxon. I didn't mean it like that."

His sudden iciness didn't thaw. He maintained the distance between us as he asked, "Then how did you mean it?"

I exhaled, realising my mistake. For Maxon, the Selection obviously wasn't a joking matter, "I'm sorry, that was stupid of me to say. Kriss and Elise voiced some of their concerns to me, and despite my better judgment I couldn't help but wonder if perhaps you'd warm up to one of the new girls. I couldn't blame you if you did."

Maxon shook his head, still looking hurt, "After everything I've said to you, you assume I've that little self control? Give me some credit, America! I've done everything I can to make sure you feel secure in your position without outright proposing to you, and you know I can't do that yet."

I sighed deeply, taking both of his hands in mine and trying to calm him as much as I could, "I'm sorry, Maxon, it was a joke more than anything else. I trust you, or course I do. It's just hard not to feel a little insecure when you're dating so many eligible women, and those insecurities won't completely disappear until the day the Selection ends."

His jaw was tense, and he didn't reply. Before I could try and coax a response out of him, the heavy door swung open, revealing a small group of guards.

"Your highness, Lady America!" the most senior guard exclaimed with evident relief, "Are you both alright?"

"We're fine, Officer Dempsie," Maxon replied, pulling me to my feet, "What happened?"

"False alarm, your highness. By the time we found the rebels, it seemed they were already on their way out."

Maxon frowned, "A group of them managed to find their way into Lady America's room earlier, undetected, and threatened both her and her maids. I want a full investigation into how they got there."

"Of course, your highness," the guard agreed, glancing between the two of us, "Shall we have another room sorted for Lady America in the meantime?"

"No," Maxon responded hastily, and I glanced up at him with concern.

_Did he really expect me to go back to my room_.

"Lady America will sleep in my bed tonight," he continued, and my heart flipped, "I want her to feel safe. Will you have an extra cot sent up to my room for me?"

"Of course, your highness."

My heart was racing in my chest. Even if Maxon didn't intend for us to share his bed, the idea of finally seeing him room and sleeping where he slept was enough to send pleasant shivers down my spine. He offered me his arm, and I took it, allowing him to steer me towards his bedroom.

All of that warm excitement left my body the moment we turned onto the next corridor, where there were two giant words gratified on the wall in thick black paint -

_**PRINCESS AMERICA  
**_

* * *

**Connell101 - I just love the idea of Maxon going to Carolina with Mer! Thanks for reading.**

**ilona18 - It's definitely upped the stakes! Thanks.**

**kassoug4 - There's an elimination coming very soon!**

**maggiebswim - Haha, sorry for putting you through this! But thanks for reading.**

**ShadowhunterWithABow - I know! Nasty rebels ):  
**

**Guest mih - I'm loving writing it, I can barely stay away from my laptop!  
**

**prnamber3909 - Haha, thanks for reading!**

**zeldafanatic0555 - Thank you so much! There are definite Alyssa/America parallels.**

**SouthernGirl45 - Thank you!**


	16. Punishment

**This chapter may be slightly heartbreaking - sorry in advance!**

**Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy it :)**

* * *

Maxon and I were equally startled by the writing on the wall. My breath caught in my throat until my lungs began to burn, and I had to remind myself to breath. Eventually Maxon looked down at me.

"America," he began, his eyes full of trepidation, "Do you know what this is about?"

I did, but I couldn't let Maxon know that. A stunt like this wouldn't exactly put me in a good light, "I don't know."

He looked uncertain but he didn't press it. One of the guards who'd found us in the safe room walked by, and upon seeing my name dripping from the wall in black paint he hurried off, looking panicked. Maxon and I didn't know what to do with ourselves. We walked the length of the graffiti in silence, and when I reached out to touch the final letter, and my fingers came away black.

We heard the crowd before we saw them; hurried footfalls, frantic whispers, and King Clarkson's booming voice.

"What does it say?" we heard him demand.

"Your majesty, we thought it best for you to see it yourself."

King Clarkson turned the corner, Amberley and a host of guards and advisers in tow. I watched his face as he read my name, and I recognised the same darkness in his eyes that I'd witnessed the night of my presentation - the night he'd caned Maxon. I reached for Maxon's hand, but realised it wasn't there; he was already on the move, quietly placing himself between me and his father.

"_Princess America_!" the King roared, tearing himself away from the wall and staring at Maxon with narrowed eyes, "What on Earth is this?"

Maxon tried to be rational, "Please Sir, we don't know. America and I were both in a nearby safe room throughout the attack."

"I _knew _it," the King seethed, his eyes moving from Maxon to me, "I knew that girl was more than just a reckless idiot - she's in league with the rebels!"

My mouth dropped, and I could see Maxon tensing as his father took a step towards us. I had to force myself not to run. If Maxon wasn't budging, neither was I.

"It's not like that. I'm not sure what the explanation is, but I can vouch for Lady America. She's not in league with the rebels, I can guarantee."

The King's jaw hardened, "You're a simple fool, son. She's been playing you throughout this entire competition. She doesn't care about you - the rebels are merely using her as means to infiltrate the palace!"

_Don't believe it, Maxon! _I thought to myself desperately. If Maxon believed his father, then it wasn't just my standing in the Selection that was on the line - it was my life.

"Please, your majesty-" I began, but the King had no interest in hearing me out.

"Silence! I won't hear a word from you. Guards, seize that girl and bring her to my office. She's a traitor to the crown!"

My heart was pounding so hard that I could feel each beat resonating in my skull. Maxon tried to protect me, but he couldn't stand up against half a dozen guards. A few of them held him back, pinning him to the wall, whilst another two caught me by my arms. They dragged me forward and presented me to King Clarkson, who slapped me hard across the face. I barely felt the heat and sting of his assault; my senses were clouded by the sound of Maxon shouting, crying, pleading for his father to have mercy. Despite my spinning head, I registered the panic in the Queen's eyes, and the reasoning hand she placed on her husband's shoulder. He merely shrugged her away, and demanded another guard escort her to her room.

* * *

Clarkson's office should have been a grand, opulent room, with it's high ceilings and polished wood paneling, but in this situation it felt like something from a nightmare. Clarkson pushed his way in, striding into the middle of the room. He stood with his arms crossed, and demanded that the guards bring me before him. I was forced to my knees, still wearing my beautiful red lace dress.

"_Lady_ America," the King hissed, saying the first word with pure venom, "It would be wise of you to talk."

I choked on a sob, "Please, your majesty, there's nothing to tell."

The King snarled, and began to move to a tall cupboard at the side of the room, "I raised my son to be an obedient, objective man. He should have eliminated you earlier in the competition, along with all the other stinking Fives who threaten everything we've strived to perfect. You were an undesirable from the moment you stepped foot in this palace, but I tolerated you until you defiled everything our system stands for on the Report that night. I was waiting for an excuse to put you in your place, and you've finally given me one."

He turned, and I saw the cane in his hands. My eyes widened with realisation, and I found myself pleading, "Your majesty, I promise, I've nothing to do with the rebels. I didn't meant to cause any trouble-"

"Silence!" The King bellowed, then turned to the pair of guards restraining me, "Get out, both of you."

They left, leaving me on my knees with nothing keeping me there but the threat of Clarkson's cane. I pressed my eyes shut, willing myself not to cry. If nothing else, I wouldn't let this monster of a man see me in tears.

"You've no idea how long I've wanted to do this, _Lady America_," he growled, and brought the first lash of the cane down onto my back.

The fabric of my dress provided some protection, but I still felt it cutting into my skin, and my breath hitched in my throat as my skin began to scream. I forced myself to think of the afternoon I'd spent in the Princess suite with Marlee, Maxon and Carter, three of the strongest, people I knew. They embodied everything that was good...

Another lash.

The thought was interrupted as the cane drove between my shoulders. I felt part of my dress fall away, exposing more skin. I envisioned their faces -_Marlee, Maxon, Carter-_ they'd all been through this, and they'd survived. So would I.

Another lash.

My entire torso was buzzing with heat and pain. I didn't think it could be any more torturous, yet somehow each lash bit even deeper.

_Marlee, Maxon, Carter,_ I continued to repeat to myself, _they're all good, strong, wonderful people. This didn't break them, and it won't break me._

Another lash.

Despite my attempts to remain strong and silent, a whimper escaped my lips. I heard Clarkson chuckle darkly.

Another lash.

I braced myself for the next lash of the cane, but it didn't come. I dared open my eyes, turning my head to see what was happening. The doors to his office were shaking, and through my ringing ears I could hear the shouting outside. There was one voice that managed to penetrate past my pain and terror - _Maxon's. _He was just outside his father's office, and he was fighting for me.

The doors burst open, and sure enough Maxon raced through, flanked by a number of men I vaguely recognised as Maxon's personal guards. He'd mentioned once that there were guards in the palace who were loyal to him, and him alone, however I'd never have imagined they were loyal enough to defy the King himself.

Maxon's eyes found mine, and he looked heartbroken as his eyes grazed the bloodied mess that was my back. The heartbreak soon turned to pure anger, and he fell to the floor beside me, covering my body with his own.

"Enough, father! Say what you will, but the ladies of the Selection are under _my_ protection, and harming them is treason, even for you!"

I'd never heard him so impassioned before. Standing up to his father was no small feat, yet he was doing it for me. I shrunk as small as I could, attempting to ignore the keen sting of my back as it tried to envelop me.

"I am the King!" Clarkson spat venomously, "And you are my son. You will treat me with the respect I deserve. That girl is a traitor!"

"You have no proof," Maxon boomed, sounding more authoritative than I'd ever heard him before, "You may be King, but you are not above the law. This is unacceptable."

I noticed that a number of guards and advisers had filtered into the room, and each of their faces was a picture of shock as they observed the state of my back, and the manner in which Maxon addressed to his father.

Clarkson looked livid, but before he could throw more accusations my way, Maxon instructed his guards to restrain him. The King roared as four guards overpowered him, but a silent horror slowly overcame him as he realised what was happening. He was dragged from the room, and I allowed my body to finally pass out from the pain.

* * *

When I came to, my vision was blurred. I stared up at a unfamiliar canopy that slowly came into focus, and began to assess the state of my body. The last time I'd woken up like this, I'd been shot in the side, and in that moment of half-consciousness I couldn't quite remember what had happened. I felt the familiar haze of painkillers, and realised that someone was holding my hand.

"America? Darling?"

_Maxon_. Whatever had happened, I'd be alright. Maxon was here, and he was watching over me.

I groaned weakly, and turned my head to find him, "Maxon, where-"

"Shh," he interrupted, and I noticed tear stains on his face, "You're in my room. Your wounds have been treated, and my father is under strict observation."

It all came back to me. The bellowing voices, the accusations, the caning. I winced at the memory, and Maxon smoothed a cool hand over my forehead.

"How can I ever apologise? This should never have happened to you."

It was evident how much his despised himself in that moment, and I couldn't bear to hear him blame himself like that.

"Maxon-" I began, but he interrupted me again.

"No America. None of this would have happened if I hadn't come into your life. I vowed I would never let my father touch anyone I loved, but I failed..."

He broke down, and yet more tears began to fall down his cheeks. I lifted my hand and tried to brush them away.

"Please Maxon," I sighed, "This is your father's fault, not yours."

He didn't look convinced, but he made an effort to pull himself together. He caught my hand in his own, and held it to his tear-stained cheek.

"Come here," I murmured, shifting over a little in his vast bed, "Just hold me."

Judging by my swimming head, Maxon had made sure I was given a healthy dose of painkillers, and I knew that I wouldn't remain conscious for long. Maxon lay beside me, tucking me into his arms, and I allowed myself to melt into his embrace. Before too long, I began to drift away on a comforting wave of medication, falling asleep in Maxon's arms for the first time.

* * *

**MandLMacerForLife - Sorry you had to wait another day, I hope it was worth it!**

**zeldafanatic0555 - Got to love the Maxerica feels!**

**lilythemermaid - That's high praise coming from someone whose writing I love!**

**maggiebswim - Eep, the other girls are going to be around a little while longer!**

**Dhenn618 - I keep saying this, but I promise an elimination is coming soon!**

**prnamber3909 - Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**Sarasmile247 - Thank you so much!**

**magicdance 123 - Thanks for reading!**

**Guest - Aww, thank you :)**

**taylorrose05 - That's honestly so touching. Thank you so much!**


	17. Maxon's Room

**Finally, an elimination! I hope you all enjoy Chapter 17...**

* * *

Iris, Cyndi and Forest were eliminated first thing the next morning. Apparently they were upset at first, but once Maxon told them about the rebels getting into my bedroom, they understood why he didn't want to keep them around any longer than was necessary. He insisted I spend the day in his bedroom, so I didn't get a chance to say goodbye to them.

Just like that we were down to the Elite again. The response should have been celebratory, however the events of the previous night were fresh in everyone's minds, and it felt like the whole palace was shrouded in a sad smog.

When Maxon left for a meeting, my maids came by to help change my dressings. I got out of bed and stripped down to my underwear, standing in front of the full length mirror in the corner of his room. As Mary and Anne peeled back the bandages, I was finally able to see the damage Clarkson's cane had done to my back. The five angry gouges overlapped one another, and still glistened in their raw state, the skin around them puckered and pink. Mary gasped, and Lucy stifled a sob. I tried to be strong for them.

They carefully applied salve and began to dress them. It stung, but I gritted my teeth and balled my hands into fists by my side. Marlee, Maxon and Carter had been through all of this, and I could do it too.

I prayed that Clarkson would pay for what he'd done to us all.

Lucy helped me put a clean linen nightgown and a fluffy bathrobe on over my bandages, and Mary brought me a tray of tea. The three of them were happy to sit playing cards with me whilst we waited to hear what would happen to the King. Maxon's room was large and regal, but strangely peaceful. There was an impressive shelf of cameras and lenses, beside which was a stretch of wall covered in his photos. I spent a good half hour observing them; he'd caught precious moments of his young cousins playing, and warm captures of Amberley in rare fits of private laughter. There were also photos of the French Princes, Daphne, bathed in late summer sunshine, or smiling coyly in an orchard. I wasn't sure how I felt about those photos.

Most surprisingly, there were photos of me too. I vaguely remembered him taking them, especially the one where he'd caught me by surprise. My eyes looked bright and inquisitive, and my lips were parted in pleasant shock. My hair was bouncing around me in fluffy waves, as it always did on humid days.

Maxon returned around mid afternoon, his top shirt button undone and his hair unruly where he'd undoubtedly been running stressed hands through it. I sprang to my feet as he stepped inside, and flew to meet him, wrapping my arms around his chest. He seemed surprised, but happily relaxed into the embrace, resting his cheek on the top of my head.

"How's your day going?" I asked weakly, and Maxon responded with an exhausted sigh.

"Between eliminating the girls earlier and arguing with the royal advisers, I've had better. We're all in agreement about one thing; my father broke the law the moment he laid a finger on you. The dilemma is, how do you punish a King?"

I didn't know what to say. I had my own suggestions on how to deal with King Clarkson, but I doubted any of them would be considered appropriate. The moment I first saw the cuts on Maxon's back, I knew I wanted to see his father suffer every injustice he'd forced upon his son and his subjects,

In the end I merely asked, "What do you want?"

Maxon sighed, "Whatever happens, I want him away from you, my mother, and the other girls. I never thought he'd dare to do this to anyone but me, but apparently I was wrong."

I felt a sudden pang of guilt; I hadn't thought of how this would affect Amberley.

"How is your mother?" I asked.

Maxon shook his head, "She's devastated. I came clean with her this morning about everything. She'd always known he was firm with me, however he'd never been entirely honest with her about the extent of his... disciplinary techniques."

I bit my lips together to stop myself breaking down. The idea of poor, sweet Amberley, who clearly lived for Maxon's happiness, having to endure something like this was too much. I couldn't imagine how she must have felt.

Maxon lead me over a small sofa in front of the fireplace, and we sat nestled together. I trailed my fingers up and down his back, wishing there was something I could do or say to soothe the suffering we both now shared.

"There's talk of my father being forced to abdicate early, and bringing my coronation forward a couple of years."

I tensed in my seat as the reality of such a possibility crashed down around me. Being romantically involved with a prince was one thing, but a king...

And more than that, if Maxon were made king and we did get married, that would mean I would be queen far sooner than I ever would have imagined.

"Is it a strong possibility?" I asked quietly, glancing up at him.

He pressed his thumb and forefinger to his tired, creased eyes, "It's hard to say at the moment. With all the cameras around the palace, no doubt the press already know the whole story. There would be uproar if my father were allowed to continue ruling. The other option is stripping my father of his sovereign powers, and my mother becoming Queen Regnant until I'm ready to take her place."

"What would happen to your father?" I pressed, the idea of Clarkson remaining in the castle making my skin crawl.

Maxon caressed the back of my neck with his thumb reassuringly, "I'm campaigning to have him to be sent to an outlying Province, where he can live modestly under constant supervision. Thankfully, most of the advisers seem to agree with me. There are some who are jumping to his defense, but the rest are smart enough to know that any other move would spell the end of the monarchy. Hell, maybe that wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, but right now this country needs structure. Desperately."

It was evident that Maxon knew his country well, and his moral compass was completely on point, "Maxon, for what it's worth, I think you'll make a wonderful king."

He chuckled sadly and pulled me tightly against his side, dropping a tender kiss atop my head, "Thank you, your faith means a lot to me."

After a few peaceful minutes he sighed heavily and began to stand up, stretching his weary limbs, "I'm sorry, America, but I have to go. I promised to have tea with Braelyn, and given everything that's happened, I think it'll be good for all of us if we try to get back to normal."

_Back to normal_, I thought to myself, _back to sleeping in my own bed, and feeling constantly uncertain as I watch you date you way around a circle of other women._

I kept my thoughts to myself, instead flashing a small smile and reaching up to plant a kiss on his cheek before he left. In a way, it felt like leaving my mark on him before he went to spend time with another woman.

* * *

My maids brought me dinner in Maxon's bedroom, but then it was time to move back to my own room. They assured me that the guards had carried out a thorough investigation, and there had been more guards stationed both outside and inside. It was an empty comfort; I knew that we wouldn't be hearing from the rebels again anytime soon.

I thought perhaps Maxon was right and it was best for us all to try and get back to normal. Despite everything that had happened, the test for the trip home was still the next morning, so I scooped up my books and notes and moved into the Women's room for some sociable studying.

It was strange how the jump down from eleven to eight made the Selection feel so much quieter. Braelyn informed me that Posie was watching a movie with Maxon, which made the room feel emptier still. My mind was still reeling, and I struggled to stay focused on my work. The idea of Maxon being on a date with Posie made it even worse. With his father pretty much out of the picture, why didn't he just end the Selection already?

I tried to reassure myself that he was probably doing it for show - to respect tradition. It would look very strange indeed if he eliminated ten girls all of a sudden, but I still somehow resented that he'd only eliminated three of them. Kriss was still here, and I knew that their relationship was somewhat complex. Alyssa was still here, unpleasant and cocky as ever. Posie and Braelyn were both still here, and seemingly becoming more charming and beautiful by the day.

Eventually the words began to swim on the page in front of me, and I gave up. I packed up my materials, and moved back to my bedroom, waving a distracted goodbye to the other girls.

Aspen was on guard outside my room, but I was in no mood to talk to him. I simply nodded in his direction as I passed, hoping he would get the message and leave me alone this evening.

Apparently he didn't get the message.

When my maids were getting me ready for bed, he knocked on the door. Mary answered and he said, "Sorry for interrupting, miss, but I've just been asked to talk Lady America through the new safety procedures."

My maids ducked out of the room, leaving Aspen and I alone. As he approached me, I raised a single unimpressed eyebrow.

"Don't look at me like that, Mer, I'm just worried about you."

I tore my eyes away from him and focused on my reflection in the mirror, running my hairbrush absently through my hair, "I'm fine, there's nothing to worry about."

"That's not true," Aspen sighed, taking a step towards me and placing his fingers meaningfully against my back. I flinched away from his touch, dropping the brush. I still hadn't come to terms with how I felt about the wounds on my back, but I knew that they were something I wanted to keep between myself, Maxon, and my maids.

"Don't touch me," I growled through gritted teeth, feeling tears spring to my eyes.

Aspen looked wounded, "I hate myself for letting them do this to you."

"Them!" I demanded, suddenly snapping my head around to glare in Aspen's direction, "You make it sound like Maxon did this to me!"

"Can you blame me, Mer? If it weren't for him..."

The tears began to spill down my cheeks. As if I wasn't hurting enough, I couldn't bear to hear Aspen throwing accusations at Maxon - poor, gentle Maxon. I stood up and shoved Aspen in the chest.

"Get out!" I barked, my voice thick through my tears.

Aspen frowned, "Mer, come on-"

"_Get out_ Officer Leger," I repeated, "Or I swear to God I will scream."

Aspen gave in. He'd always been intelligent, and he was smart enough to know when he'd lost a fight. Despite that, he looked back at me one final time before he left my room.

"Push me away all you want, Mer, but I will never stop fighting to keep you safe."

* * *

**maggiebswim - I hope the triple elimination made up for the wait!**

**Guest - Thank you so much! I'm sure Maxon will be reasonable ;)  
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**Guest mih - What a fantastic compliment. Thank you!  
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**kassoug4 - Thank you so much for reading!**

**magicdance123 - Haha, thanks for reading :)  
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**Connell101 - Anything that brings them together is a good thing... right? Thanks for reading!**

**prnamber3909 - Sorry for any emotional turmoil! Thanks for reading.**

**Karategirl537 - Thank you so much!**


	18. Braelyn

**Eek, I have a feeling some of you will hate me for this chapter!**

**Sorry for breaking my streak of posting every day. My parents bought me some tickets for a show in London last night so I've had a busy couple of days. Today's chapter is extra long to make up for it!**

**I hope you enjoy Chapter 18...**

* * *

Kriss, Elise and I sat at our desks in silence, waiting for the test to begin. Queen Amberley had been quite vague when she'd first told us about it, so none of us knew exactly what to expect. I hadn't managed to pack in the last minute work I'd intended to do, however I hoped that my intensive studying earlier in the week would give me an advantage over Kriss and Elise. After everything that had happened, I _needed_ that trip home.

Silvia placed a single sheet of paper on each of our desks, and informed us we had half an hour to work in silence. There were fifty questions with multiple choice answers about etiquette and diplomacy, and we had to circle the answer we thought was correct. Whilst I got stuck on a couple of the questions, on the whole it went quite well. It seemed a lot of the information had become hardwired into my brain, and the rest of it could be answered with a little common sense. Shortly after I circled my last answer, Silvia clapped her hands together and announced that our time was up.

"Hand in your papers ladies. Queen Amberley and I will be marking them this afternoon, and the winner will be announced at dinner."

At least they weren't making us wait too long. As we stepped out of Amberley's office, the three of us let out a collective breath of relief. I glanced at the other two girls, trying to figure out how well they thought they'd done.

"Oh, it was awful," Kriss choked, bringing her hands to her face, "I panicked, and the answers began to blur into one. I didn't even get to the last ten questions!"

Elise touched a reassuring hand to her arm, "It's alright - I didn't finish either. I was trying to be methodic about it, but I ran out of time."

I had to force myself not to smile. Even if I did get a few questions wrong, at least I'd finished! I began to feel quite confident in my chances.

"I was completely stumped with a few of the questions," I then admitted, realising that both girls were looking to me waiting for my opinion of the test, "I did finish, but I probably slipped up because I was rushing."

Both girls relaxed visibly, reassured that we were all pretty much on the same level. None of us dared to openly speculate about who would win the trip home, but I felt quietly confident.

* * *

Talk at lunch quickly turned to Christmas. It was fast approaching, and we were expecting the palace decorations to go up any day. Kriss distractedly pushed her food around her plate, mulling over her performance in the test, but brightened up when talk turned to our favourite family traditions.

"We always paint tree decorations," she sighed with a small smile, "One for each of us, every year. We have quite the collection now!"

As always, Alyssa was keen to one-up every other Three in the competition.

"We're friends with a family of Twos who always invite us around for fireworks on Christmas Eve," she drawled, then turned to Rain and I, "Do you two even know what fireworks are? I doubt a Five would have reason to."

I had to to grit my teeth, but Rain seemed to have become apt at ignoring her. She simply smiled effervescently and changed the subject, "Christmas can be a bit financially challenging for us, so we like to make a big deal of the little things. Every Christmas Eve, my dad and I always cook up a big pot of eggnog, then we invite the neighbours around for a drink."

I couldn't help but smile; Rain's idea of Christmas festivity felt far more familiar to me than any of the other girls traditions.

"That sounds so lovely," I said warmly, "My mother and I will always get out our instruments, and our family will spend the night singing old carols and Christmas songs."

Elena beamed at me from across the table, "What a fantastic idea. We should ask the Queen if we could do something like that in the palace this year. I don't know many carols, but you can teach us."

"That would be fantastic," I agreed, then looked around at the other girls, "But only if you'd all like it, of course."

With the exception of Alyssa, who looked unimpressed, the girls all chorused enthusiastic sounds of agreement.

"I know I'll miss my family so much," Posie sighed, "It'll be nice to do festive things like that together - it will take our minds off missing our loved ones."

"I'm sure Christmas at a palace will be so incredible you won't have a chance to miss your family," Braelyn reassured, flashing that knowing smile of hers.

Braelyn forever confused me. I liked her; she was honest and upfront, yet so witty and bright. We were the same age, however there was a quiet confidence in her eyes that belonged to a girl far older than seventeen. I was curious to find out more about her, but when it came to her background she was a closed book. If you asked her about herself she'd tactfully turn the conversation around until she was no longer the focus. I knew she was a Four, but that could mean a great many things. None of us knew anything about her life before the selection, but I was willing to bet there were dozens of stories hidden behind that smile.

* * *

I spent the afternoon feeling anxious about the results of the test. At dinner we would be finding out who would be visiting their family with Maxon, and I wasn't sure I'd be able to handle it if I didn't win. I _needed_ to hold May, to talk to my dad, to see mom and Gerad and Kenna. They'd sent me a letter letting me know that her baby had arrived, and she was a picture of health. I was dying to meet my niece for the first time.

My maids tried to distract me by asking if there was anything special I'd like to wear on Christmas Day, but I assured them that I had no preference, and that I was sure that they'd come up with something perfect. Instead, I tried to turn the conversation onto what I'd wear if I were to go back to Carolina with Maxon.

"I couldn't wear the day dresses I wear here - I'd look ridiculous! Do you think I'll be allowed to wear my jeans? At very least, do you think it would be possible to get some skirts instead? I know we wouldn't have long to get ready, but I'd want it to be perfect."

Mary tried to laugh off my barrage of questions, "Oh miss, let's not get ahead of ourselves! We don't want to get our hopes up, although you know we've got every faith in you."

I was so full of energy, so I decided to take a walk around the gardens, hoping to burn some of it off. Lucy helped me slide a rich navy blue cape on over my dress for a little extra warmth, then I was racing outside in a heartbeat. I was enjoying the milder winter weather; the air felt fresher in my lungs, and the gardens felt charmingly sleepy.

After the recent rebel attacks, one of the guards apologetically explained that he would have to stay close by whilst I was outside. I offered an understanding smile - he seemed nice, and I was almost grateful for the company.

We walked for a while, exchanging a few polite words, then I decided the take a rest on the stone bench where Maxon and I had shared out first conversation. The guard explained he had to leave me for a couple of minutes to see to something quickly, and I happily excused him; it was nice to have a rare moment alone with my thoughts.

Typically, my moment of peace was interrupted. Over one of the hedges, I spotted the tops of two heads. One was golden, and I recognised it instantly as Maxon. A moment later I identified Braelyn's chestnut hair. All of a sudden, they were close enough that I could hear them laughing.

Before they could see me, I ducked behind another hedge, pressing myself into the greenery. I watched from a safe distance as they turned the corner, Braelyn's hand tucked into the crook of Maxon's arm. An all-too-familiar rush of jealousy flowed through me, but I tried my best to ignore it, straining to hear their conversation.

The two of them sat on the stone bench, and I heard Maxon say, "Thank you for joining me today, Lady Braelyn."

Her lips twisted into that mysterious smile, "How many times must I ask, your highness! Please, call me Brae."

"Sorry, of course, _Brae_," Maxon chuckled, taking her hand, "But only on the condition that you call me Maxon. This 'your highness' business always feels a bit unnecessary."

"I don't know about that," Braelyn purred, "I quite like the way it sounds, _your highness_."

Watching them flirt made me feel uncomfortable. I felt so at ease with Maxon, but excluding the odd moment of intimacy, I wasn't very good when it came to being seductive or flirtatious. However, it seemed Braelyn had it down to an art.

"I feel awfully lucky," she commented, intertwining her fingers with Maxon's, "Spending time with you two days in a row is an unexpected treat."

My heart wilted sadly in my chest. Why would he want to see her two days in a row? Could he really be that attached to her already?

Maxon tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and every nerve in my body screamed at him to stop touching her so tenderly, "What can I say? You fascinate me."

She _fascinated_ him? What could that possibly mean? In those couple of seconds, every moment I'd shared with Maxon turned to dust, falling away like sand between my fingers. Watching him kiss Celeste mindlessly had been one thing, but something about this situation felt more intimate.

My worst nightmares were playing out in front of me. Maxon's eyes dropped closed, and he leaned towards her. Braelyn mirrored him until their lips were touching.

In that moment, I felt my heart crumble in my chest. I couldn't bear to watch, yet I couldn't bring myself to look away.

"Lady America!"

_Damn!_ The guard was back, and wondering where I'd gone. Braelyn and Maxon suddenly jumped apart, and the guard backed away apologetically, realising what he'd just interrupted.

"I'm so sorry for interrupting, your highness. It's just I was watching Lady America. She was here a minute ago, but I went inside for a moment, and she seems to have disappeared."

Maxon's eyebrows furrowed with concern, but he sighed, "That definitely sounds like Lady America."

My heart sank. The way he talked about me made me sound like a burden - like a child that needed taking care of.

They both called for me, and eventually I forced myself out from my hiding place, tail between my legs. I tried to look surprised, but there was no hiding the blush in my cheeks.

"Sorry about that," I tried to laugh, "I thought I saw something and I went to check. Turns out it was nothing."

The guard frowned, "You must be more careful miss, there's no telling what could happen out here."

"I know, it was foolish," I admitted, bowing my head, "It won't happen again."

Maxon sighed, and turned to Braelyn and I, "Sorry ladies, I should return to my work. I'll see you both at dinner."

Just like that, I was left alone with Braelyn. Usually I wouldn't have minded, but given what I'd just witnessed, I didn't know what to say to her. I was about to excuse myself when she said, "Will you walk with me, America? It's too nice of a day to waste it inside."

I nodded obligingly, and the guard informed us he'd be keeping watch from a distance.

Braelyn looped her arm through mine like we were best friends. Once we were out of the guard's earshot, she raised an eyebrow and asked, "Be frank with me, America, did you see something back there that you weren't supposed to?"

_Oh crap._

"I'm sorry," I sighed, "I didn't know what to do."

Braelyn stopped us in our tracks, and turned so that we were facing each other head on. She took both of my hands in hers and flashed me a sympathetic smile, "Come on, America, let's not make this more uncomfortable than it has to be. I like you - I want us to be friends."

"I like you too," I admitted reluctantly.

She nudged me playfully with her elbow, "Come on then, let's be adult about this. Yes, I've kissed Maxon, but don't you dare try and tell me you haven't kissed him too. You two obviously have chemistry."

She wiggled her eyebrows jokingly, and I couldn't help but giggle.

"This could be painfully awkward," she continued with a smile, "Or it could be fun. I'm not an idiot, I can tell that you can Maxon have a bit of history now, but he's a nice guy and... Well, can you blame me for being a little enchanted by him?"

I sighed reluctantly, "No, I suppose I can't."

She laughed charmingly, "See! We're as bad as each other."

Linking her arm back through mine, we continued our walk through the gardens. I couldn't help but think back to the walk I'd taken with Kriss, where we'd had a similar conversation. Somehow, Braelyn was far better at putting me at ease.

"I don't fancy my chances, but can you blame me for trying? My family are flower farmers. It's not the most stable work, and you know better than anyone the difference this opportunity could make to our families lives. I have to give it a shot."

Despite everything, I couldn't deny her that.

She sighed, and tilted her head so that it was resting on my shoulder, "Ultimately, what will be will be. Maxon will choose a wife, and whilst it may be one of us, it may be someone else entirely. Regardless, why ruin what could be a great friendship?"

I'd always known that Braelyn was sharp witted and intelligent, but I'd underestimated to what extent. As we headed back towards the palace, my emotions were thrown into limbo. Whilst I was certain that Braelyn and I were developing some kind of surreal friendship, I also couldn't quite piece my heart back together after seeing Maxon kiss one of the new Selected.

All of a sudden, I wasn't sure I knew him very well at all.

* * *

**maggiebswim - Yay, I'm glad I made it up to you!**

**Swim chick - Thank you s much!  
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**Guest mih - Haha, I love you too for all of your lovely reviews!  
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**Dhenn618 - Lots of great questions! Only time will tell...**

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**Missmya16 - I'll make sure to schedule in some Maxerica soon!**


	19. Elise

**Thank you so much for the overwhelming response to my last chapter, even if Braelyn has divided opinions a little! I must admit, she's one of my favourite OCs - she just runs away with me when I write her!**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter...**

* * *

I couldn't stop replaying Braelyn's kiss with Maxon over in my mind. I could understand the situation from her perspective, but I'd been so sure of mine and Maxon's relationship. I'd come to terms with the fact that he had history with Kriss and Elise, but I simply couldn't get my head around why he would willingly develop a relationship with one of the new girls.

He'd asked me to trust him, and he'd betrayed that trust. I glanced down at the beautiful promise ring, and my heart ached. I wanted to twist it off my finger and throw it at Maxon's head.

Since our conversation that afternoon, Braelyn had stuck to my side like glue. When we took our seats for dinner, she insisted we sit together. My feelings towards her were so conflicted; I could see the potential for a great friendship, yet I couldn't bear that she was diverting Maxon's affections. I looked up at the head table where Maxon sat with his mother, and he caught my eye. I yearned to tug my ear, but I didn't, forcing myself to look away.

Before our food was served, Maxon stood up to make an announcement, "Good evening, ladies. As you may know, earlier today the three original members of the Elite took a test. To reward them for their patience in this competition, I will be returning to one of their home provinces with them, to spend some time with their family before Christmas."

The other girls looked at each other in disbelief. They knew that Kriss, Elise and I were taking a test, but they hadn't been aware of the reason why. Posie looked wistfully envious, whilst Alyssa bristled with annoyance.

"All three ladies did remarkably well," Maxon continued, and I felt my stomach flip, "However, one of them shone just a little brighter than the others - Lady America."

I should have been delighted -this was exactly what I'd wanted- but after seeing him kiss Braelyn, the idea of spending time alone with Maxon made me feel strangely nervous. I forced myself to smile, and accepted the other girls' congratulations. Kriss looked crestfallen, whilst Elise looked as composed as she always did.

* * *

When I arrived back at my room after dinner, Lucy and Mary were buzzing. They congratulated me over and over, and talked constantly about what I should pack and wear for the trip. As much as I tried, I couldn't quite share their enthusiasm. All I could think about was how I had to clear the air with Maxon before we left in a few days. He'd been intent on me somehow earning his trust, yet here he was flaunting mine.

Anne eventually joined us with a pile of fresh towels for my evening bath, but she didn't quite look herself. After placing the towels at the foot of my bed, she played with her fingers agitatedly before finally addressing me, "Miss, I think you should go to Lady Elise's room."

I felt my lips pucker in confusion, "Why, Anne?"

She shook her head lightly, "I just think you should, miss."

I frowned. Something was clearly up, but Anne wasn't going to tell me straight out. I sighed, and headed out into the corridor. I'd seen Elise emerging from her room before, so thankfully I knew where it was, and it wasn't too far from mine. When I arrived, I gently rapped my fingers against the wood.

"Who is it?" she called, her voice a little too mechanical for comfort.

"It's America," I called back, "May I come in?"

I heard her dainty feet moving across the carpet, and she pulled the door open for me. Her eyes were uncharacteristically red, and she looked a little disheveled around the edges. I followed her inside, and her maids quietly left the two of us alone.

"What's wrong, Elise?" I asked tentatively.

She sighed heavily, "I suppose I might aswell be frank with you. I'm leaving, America."

My mouth dropped open in shock, "What? Did Maxon eliminate you?"

"No," she explained quietly, shaking her head, "Back when Celeste was here I knew my chances were slim to none, but with all the new girls here I know that Maxon is purely keeping me out of kindness, to save me the embarrassment of eliminating me before any of them."

I opened my mouth to argue, but she shot me a look that pleaded me to be quiet and let her finish.

"Please, there's no need to try and convince me otherwise - it's something I've come to terms with. However, this charade is getting tiring now, and I want to see my family for Christmas. I said to myself that if I won the trip home I'd give things another few weeks, but I didn't..."

She faded off, and I suddenly felt incredibly guilty for winning the trip.

"I'm going to ask Maxon to eliminate me, I'm sure he'll do me that one kindess," she sighed, wrapping her arms around herself.

I took one of her hands gently, "If that's really what you want, he'll do it for you. He wants us all to be happy."

Elise managed a small smile, and squeezed my hand, "I'm still rooting for you. It's you he wants, it always has been. You're _the one_."

I decided not to tell her that I wasn't so sure. Instead I offered a grateful smile. I gave her directions to Maxon's room so she could confront him whenever she felt ready, and we shared a timid hug. I knew that once she told Maxon she didn't want to be here, he would find a way for her to get home immediately, so there was a good chance this was goodbye.

Just before I left, she caught my wrist, "America, this palace can be a confusing place. We can all see the way Maxon looks at you, but I think you somehow miss it. He _adores_ you. Promise me you'll focus on your relationship, and you won't let the Selection blind you."

I swallowed, uncertain how to respond. I simply uttered, "Thank you, Elise. I promise."

Her words bounced around in my head as I walked back to my room. She was right; the palace was a confusing place. I'd always felt that the Selection was an incredibly unnatural way to cultivate a relationship, and I struggled to remind myself that it was never going to be straight forward. Maxon was expected to date around, and make an effort with every member of the Selected. In a strange way, it was his duty.

But that sure as hell didn't mean I had to be comfortable with it.

My bedroom door was open when I returned, but the familiar sound of my maids reassuring chatter was missing. I crept inside, and found the doors to my balcony wide open, the gauzy curtains blowing inside on a mild breeze. Maxon was stood outside, leaning on the railing. He was waiting for me.

I took a deep breath, and approached him, resting a hand on his arm, "Maxon?"

He turned a gave me a confused look, "America, there you are. What's going on with you today?"

My eyebrows shot up in surprise, "Oh, I got held up talking to Elise."

"That's not what I meant," he replied, looking frustrated, "I was talking about earlier, in the gardens, then at dinner. You kept avoiding eye contact with me. You didn't even look particularly happy about your trip home."

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said awkwardly, rubbing my arm.

He took me gently by the shoulders, "America, please tell me what's going on."

I sighed, and turned away so I was looking out over the moonlit gardens, "Maxon, I know you've been spending time with Braelyn the past two days. Why?"

He was silent for a moment, clearly surprised by my observation, "Does it really bother you that much?"

I turned to face him again, confusion written in the creases marring my forehead, "Why wouldn't it?"

"For goodness sake, America, why can't you trust me?"

I had to bite my lips shut before I said something I might regret. Instead, I took a moment to choose the right words, "Braelyn and I are... Friends. We talk. To use her words, she's _enchanted_ by you."

"Oh."

I rolled my eyes, "Maxon, if you're serious about that promise you made me, and you really think we have a future together, why would you get her hopes up like that?"

"I suppose I thought she was hardier than that. Please understand, America, I enjoy her company -she's refreshing- but I've no affection for her."

I forced a dry laugh, "Oh, she's hardy alright, but she's smart enough to know a good man when she sees one. She _likes _you."

Maxon pressed his fingers to his temples, looking concerned and sheepishly guilty.

"Also," I added quietly, "I know that you've kissed her."

He tensed up beside me, "How do you know that?"

"She told me," I sighed, my skin bristling in the slight winter chill, "Like I said, we're friends."

"Look, America, I'm sorry," he began, sounding increasingly desperate, "It's not like that. You know I have to keep up this act for a little longer before we can be together, but sometimes it's hard not to get swept away in it all..."

I took a deep, frustrated breath, "You said yourself that trust is the main issue in our relationship. Well, I trusted you."

"You can still trust me-"

"Really?" I laughed dryly, "Because it sure doesn't feel that way, Maxon. First Celeste, then this."

Maxon ran his hands through his hair, looking completely lost. Eventually he picked up both of my hands and looked me in the eye, "America, I'm _so_ sorry. It was utterly wrong of me to betray your trust. But I promise you, I will make it up to you on our trip to Carolina, and then some."

I cocked an eyebrow, "Another promise?"

He rolled his eyes, "Sorry, that was foolish. Alright, no more promises. I'll let my actions speak for themselves. I will prove to you that your trust in me was not ill-placed."

He pressed an intent kiss to my forehead, and turned around, leaving me alone in the brisk December night.

* * *

**Karategirl537 - I hope this chapter restores your faith!**

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	20. Going Home

**Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out - I've had a busy couple of days! With a bit of luck, I'll be posting everyday for the next week, so I hope you're all ready to spend a bit of time in Carolina with Maxon and Mer...**

**I hope you enjoy Chapter 20 - we're about halfway through the story now!**

* * *

In spite of my apprehension, our trip to Carolina came around extremely quickly. I hadn't seen Maxon alone since the evening I'd found him in my room, and I wasn't entirely sure where the two of us stood with one another.

As we'd predicted, Maxon sent Elise home within hours of her asking him to eliminate her. The following afternoon in the Women's Room, everyone debated the reason for her departure. Maxon had told everyone that he'd sent her home because she'd asked him to, but a few of the girls were convinced that he was simply trying to save her pride.

"I just don't see why she'd ask to go," Posie sighed. Although she hadn't been close to Elise, Posie seemed to take every elimination hard. It was just in her nature.

"If she really did, then she's a complete idiot," Alyssa spat, tugging at one of her nails. She'd become even more foul since Maxon had announced our trip to Carolina.

Braelyn shrugged, "She wanted to be with her family for Christmas - I'm sure we can all respect that."

Kriss and Elena murmured diplomatic agreements.

After a while I couldn't bear to keep quiet anymore. I didn't know whether or not Elise would have wanted me telling the others about our conversation, but I couldn't stand listening to them questioning her.

"I actually spoke to her the night before she left," I began, stirring sugar into my tea, "Maxon is telling the truth - she did ask him to send her home."

"Well that makes perfect sense," Alyssa purred evilly, "As if winning the trip wasn't enough for you, you also had to brainwash another girl into _asking_ to leave."

I frowned, trying to remain composed, "I didn't _brainwash_ anyone. Elise was smart, smarter than you give her credit for. She knew exactly what she was doing."

"Sure," she snorted.

I couldn't stand to stay around Alyssa any longer so I took my leave, shooting a pointed look at her, "Excuse me ladies, but I should probably start packing. It's not long before Maxon and I leave."

That sure shut her up.

* * *

We left before breakfast, so Mary presented me with a small package of pastries for the journey. My maids had dressed me in one of the skirts they'd had commissioned for the trip -a forest green taffeta number that fell to my knees- along with a crisp white linen blouse, and little black boots. I wasn't sure how cold it would be in Carolina, so I had a matching green cape folded over my arm just in case, along with some elegant black gloves.

Maxon and I climbed into the car just as dawn began to break over the palace. He seemed quiet, but nonetheless he placed his hand over mine once we were both seated.

The car slowly pulled out of the palace driveway, and I began to understand why we'd left so early. A cluster of reporters were hanging around the palace gates, trying to snap photos through the car's tinted windows, but on the whole Angeles was still sleepy and quiet. As we made our way to the airport, a few people recognised the royal emblem on the car's plates and waved frantically. I waved back instinctively, although I knew they couldn't see me through the dark glass.

"Are you alright?" I asked Maxon as we pulled into the airport. He'd been silent the entire journey, and his lips were twisted uncomfortably.

"It's nothing," he sighed, drawing a deep breath in an attempt to compose himself, "Don't tell anyone, but flying always makes me feel a bit nervous."

That was a surprise. I'd only flown once myself, and whilst the takeoff and landing had been a bit stomach churning, on the whole I'd found it kind of exhilarating. I shot him a warm smile and squeezed his hand, "Well, this time you've got me looking after you."

He managed a light chuckle, just as the car came to a stop. Guards piled out of the two cars that had been driving behind and in front of us, then we were being guided into the airport. Special guarded rails had been put up, and a handful of clued-up press stood either side grasping cameras. I felt a nervous flutter in my stomach, until Maxon quietly took my hand. He waved lightly to the press, and I mirrored his actions with a small smile, all the while wondering what headlines these photos would appear under.

We were lead through to a private lounge, two glasses of champagne and a bowl piled with fruit waiting for us. The guards filtered out of the room, saying they'd let us know when our plane was prepared.

I was ready to sit down and enjoy the champagne, but before I had a chance to take one of the glasses, Maxon pounced on me. He embraced me, pressing his lips to mine eagerly. Swept up in the surprise of it all, I was happy to revel in his affection. Despite my constant nagging uncertainties, in that moment there was no Kriss, no Braelyn, no Selection, and no Clarkson. There was just Maxon and America, and it was perfect.

Unfortunately, like all perfect moments, it had to end.

"Sorry," Maxon murmured sheepishly as he pulled away, "I had to do that."

I laughed lightly, reaching up to touch his cheek, "Don't be sorry. I'm glad you did."

"We're a bit of a mess right now, aren't we Mer?" he sighed.

A flash of something raw and emotional coursed through me. Maxon had called me Mer - the name that had always belonged to Aspen.

"What did you just call me?" I asked quietly.

Maxon's eyes widened, "Sorry, it just slipped out. I know you asked me not to call you that, I shouldn't-"

I interrupted him with a fleeting kiss, "No, don't apologise. It felt... Right."

He beamed at me, and picked up my left hand in both of his, toying with the promise ring on my finger. My heart began to race in my chest, wondering what was going through his mind. Was he going to take it away? Amend his promise? My better reason told me that if he were going to do that, he wouldn't have kissed me just now, however I still felt a little insecure after witnessing his kiss with Braelyn.

"What are you thinking?" I eventually asked.

Maxon took a moment to respond, "That I need to make this trip perfect - that I need to fix us. I've been an idiot, Mer, blinded by this Godforsaken competition. They're sending my father away, and with him gone the country will be facing big changes. I know now more than ever that I need you here with me if I'm to handle all this well."

_Clarkson was definitely being sent to an outlying province._ The relief that came with this knowledge burned pleasantly through my veins like morphine.

"No more Braelyn?" I breathed carefully, "I really like her, Maxon, and I don't want you to mess her around if you don't actually have feelings for her."

He gently placed his fingers against my lips, "Let's not talk about any of them for now, but I promise I will straighten everything out when we return."

I jarred slightly at the word 'promise', but I forced myself not to say anything.

* * *

We were just finishing our champagne when there was a knock at the door. Maxon called for the guard to enter, and so he stepped inside.

Of course, it wasn't just any guard.

My stomach plummeted. Of all the guards in the palace, why did it have to be Aspen? Just when I'd managed to escape the uncertainty of the other girls, the other big question mark in my life had to sprout up. I told myself that it had made sense; Aspen had proved himself as a trustworthy guard, and he knew Carolina better than anyone. Still, I couldn't shake the horrible, tight feeling in my chest.

"You majesty, Lady America, you flight is ready."

"Thank you, Officer Leger," Maxon took a nervous breath and drew himself upright, offering me his hand with a timid, "Mer?"

I placed my hand in Maxon's, and couldn't help but steal a glance at Aspen. His face was composed for the most part, but I could see his devastation at hearing Maxon use his name for me flashing in his eyes and pulling at the corners of his mouth. Despite everything, I couldn't help but feel guilty.

As Maxon and I followed the path to the plane, I avoided looking at Aspen. Letting Maxon call me Mer suddenly felt like a huge betrayal, but why should it? It was just a nickname, and Maxon didn't use it out of spite - he had no idea what it meant.

The plane was a carbon copy of the one that had brought me to Angeles, and it felt surreal to be boarding one again, especially with both Maxon and Aspen in tow. I inhaled one last lungful of Angeles air before we were shepherded inside and the doors were closed securely behind us.

I could sense Maxon's nerves - his shoulders were tense, and his face stony. Aspen had disappeared behind a curtain, so I felt no guilt is squeezing Maxon's hand reassuringly and placing a kiss on his cheek. He relaxed a little, but he still looked uncomfortable. He only really began to ease up and chat once we were in the air.

And just like that, America Singer was heading back to Carolina.

* * *

**Athenachild101 - It killed me to send her home, but I felt like it was her time!**

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	21. Tiny Person

**Since I live in the UK, The Prince and The Guard have only just come out. I've been so anxious to read them, but now I finally have! The Guard definitely changed the way I see Aspen a little, so I've altered my plans for him. Things ****in Carolina** will be getting interesting over the next few chapters...

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy Chapter 21!**

* * *

"We missed you, kitten," my dad chuckled sadly.

Being back in my family's arms, in my old house, was indescribable. When Maxon and I had arrived in Carolina, we'd been greeted by crowds of people, most of them cheering and holding up signs that read 'America is still our princess!'. There was the odd group of Twos or Threes still looking a little put out that they hadn't been Selected, but on the whole the atmosphere was electric. Maxon's wave was refined and dignified, but I couldn't resist waving wildly, rolling up onto the balls of my feet trying to spot people I recognised in the crowds.

Pulling up outside my house was bittersweet. The sight was so comforting and familiar, yet I felt nervous about what Maxon might think. Would the sight of the peeling paint and battered wood remind him how different we were, and send him running? Thankfully, he simply looked intrigued as we climbed out of the car and made our way to my old front door, circled by guards.

I'd been glad to see that the money the palace had been sending my family had been put to good use. The house was still far from grand, but I could see that they'd done a lot of minor repairs, the old damp spots and cracks finally patched up. Even Gerad and May were looking at little more plump and happy.

"I missed you too, dad," I sighed into my dad's chest, inhaling the familiar scent of must and paint that clung to his overalls. Mum, May, and Gerad were all scrubbed up and dressed in their smartest clothes, however dad had clearly been painting until the moment we'd arrived.

"Mr and Mrs Singer, a pleasure to see you again," Maxon greeted, causing my dad to laugh.

"Please, your highness, call us Shalom and Magda," he insisted.

Maxon smiled hesitantly, but was clearly delighted to have been welcomed into the heart of my family, "Of course, but on the condition you all call me Maxon."

May's eyes widened, and she clapped her hands together in excitement. Maxon laughed and stooped down to greet her and Gerad.

"May, Gerad, I hope you haven't been missing your sister too much?"

Gerad looked up at him shyly -clearly reeling at finally seeing the man he watched on the Report every week in person- however May was bubbling over with excitement.

"It's fine! Do you think we can come and visit her again soon?"

Maxon laughed, and reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, "I'm sure we'll be able to arrange something soon."

May beamed, and my mother shot me an approving look over her shoulder that read, _well done. _I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes.

I remembered the package of pastries Mary had given me. I'd been too excited to eat them, but I now realised there was someone here who would appreciate them far more than me.

"I have a little present for you two. Nothing big, just some palace treats," I said, passing them the little package. They tore inside, and May instantly commandeered a strawberry tart. We all laughed at their enthusiasm.

"When can we meet Kenna's baby?" I then asked, eager to finally meet my niece.

My parents looked at one another with expressions brimming with pride, "Her name's Astra. Kenna and James are bringing her around at dinner tonight."

A happy thrill raced down my spine, and I reached out to squeeze Maxon's hand.

As the guards began to bring our bags in for us, my mother insisted on making us all tea. Just as everyone was taking their seats at the table, my dad caught me by the shoulder and steered me to one side.

"Your mother didn't want me to tell you this, but Kota has insisted on coming around this evening too."

I felt my face fall. _Of course_ Kota would insist on pretending he was still part of our family if it meant rubbing shoulders with the future king. He hadn't changed one bit.

"It'll be his first time meeting Astra too," he added with a disheartened frown, and I felt sick to my stomach. I couldn't believe that Kota would sink so low as to ignore the birth of his first niece. He was utterly self involved, not that it should have come as a surprise.

* * *

Kenna and James arrived with Astra a few hours later. I was sat on the sofa between May and Maxon, who had his arm draped around my shoulders. Once my mother had poured him a few cups of tea, and he'd spent some time talking and laughing with my dad, he seemed far more relaxed, a permanent shy smile on his face.

After hugs and introductions, Kenna carefully placed tiny Astra in my arms. I cradled her gently, like she was made of egg shells and cotton wool, and drank in the sight of her. She was so delicate, with big brown eyes and the tiniest tuft of fiery red fluff atop her head.

"She has our hair," I whispered to May, who giggled happily.

Maxon looked mildly uncomfortable yet intrigued by the tiny person in my arms. I gently reminded myself that he had no younger siblings of his own, so the chances were he had next to no experience with babies.

"Come say hello," I prompted, and Maxon shifted a little closer. He nervously touched one of her hands, and her soft little fingers closed around one of his. His eyes were round with wonder.

"I've never seen a baby up close before," he breathed, not taking his eyes away from Astra, "She's so small."

He was so gentle and sweet. In that moment, I couldn't help but imagine the two of us sat together in the Princess Suite, cradling our own red-haired baby. I tried to dash the notion from my mind, but it was so strong and happy. In the end I relented, and allowed myself to revel in it.

"Would you like to hold her?" Kenna asked Maxon with a reassuring smile.

He looked back at her timidly, then looked to me for confirmation. I nodded with a gentle laugh, and placed Astra into his waiting arms, helping him put his hands in the right place. I remembered how safe and secure I always felt in Maxon's arms -there was a certainty I'd never felt in Aspen's- and I could see him taking the same care with Astra as he always did with me. For someone who had no experience with babies, he looked so at ease once he became used to the warm weight in his arms. Astra let out a tiny yawn, and her pearly eyelids fluttered closed.

"She must like you," Kenna insisted, "There aren't many people she'll fall asleep with."

Maxon beamed, and I felt myself resting my head on his shoulder instinctively, both of us watching Astra sleep. The Selection may not have been over, but Maxon already felt like part of my family.

* * *

Kota arrived an hour later than planned, meaning we all had to wait for dinner. He strolled through the door with Aspen accompanying him, looking smug and self important. I had to grit my teeth, and held Astra a little tighter than necessary in my arms, causing her to make a slight snuffly sound in her sleep.

"Your highness!" Kota instantly said, addressing Maxon before acknowledging any of his family, "An honour to finally meet you."

Maxon stood up and shook Kota's hand with a polite nod of his head, "You must be Kota."

"Yes, I hope my sister has introduced you to my work?"

"I've heard your name before," Maxon replied vaguely, but it was enough recognition for Kota to puff up like some proud yet ridiculous rooster. He strode towards me and gathered me into an uncomfortable hug.

"Why did you never reply to my letter?" he whispered into my ear, but I pretended I hadn't heard him. Afterwards he feigned an interest in Kenna and Astra, and my mother waved me over to kitchen where she was serving dinner.

"America," she murmured, straining vegetables over the sink, "Was that Aspen? I didn't realise he was with you."

"He knows the area well, it made sense for him to come," I explained with a shrug, "Why?"

She sighed, "It's his sister, Celia, she's not well. Lena's struggling without her picking up extra work, but she hasn't told Aspen to save him from the extra stress. Do you think he'll be seeing his family whilst he's here?"

I felt my heart jump into my throat. Aspen's family struggled enough as it was, so I didn't know how much of an extra hit they could take.

"I would imagine so. The guards do get some time off."

She nodded thoughtfully, "I don't know if I should warn him, or maybe his mother. Perhaps if you mention it to the prince he'll let Aspen spend a little extra time with them?"

I nodded, my mind already reeling, "I'll see what I can do."

Dinner was awkward, Kota constantly talking about his work and trying to engage Maxon in conversation. I hated how little of an interest he showed in the rest of the family, and I found myself feeling grateful that he would be leaving in a few hours, and Maxon and I would be free to enjoy the rest of the trip with the members of my family who really mattered.

Once our plates were cleared, Maxon insisted on helping clear the table, much to my mother's surprise and delight. When everything was clean, she led both of us to our rooms.

"We've put you in Kenna's old room, your highness," she explained, still unable to bring herself to call him Maxon, "I hope you find it comfortable."

Maxon smiled warmly, "I'm sure I will. Thank you Magda."

My mother then turned to me and said, "Your room is just as you left it, although I can imagine they struggled to fit all of your fancy new clothes into your old wardrobe!"

I manage a small smile, "Thanks mom. I think I'll give Maxon a quick tour before we go to bed."

She was happy to take the cue and leave Maxon and I alone. He let out a breath of relief once she was back in the kitchen, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"What's so funny?" he asked with a bemused smile.

"You," I giggled, taking his hand, "You look even more confused than I felt when I first came to the palace."

At that observation, Maxon smiled, "I suppose I can finally understand how alien it all must have felt."

"But alien in a good way?" I asked nervously, biting my lip.

Maxon chuckled and traced the back of his fingers down my cheek, "Alien in a good way. It's all so... You. How could I not love it?"

I felt myself blush, and turned to hide the redness in my cheeks. I tugged his hand, and lead him down to my bedroom.

"This is my old room," I explained, opening the door. After the months I'd spent in the palace, being in my old room felt incredibly strange. It was still comforting, but it felt far more cramped and sad than I remembered it being. I suddenly missed my balcony, and the comforting sound of my maids' chatter. Had I become pampered?

The sight of my palace clothes squished into my tiny wardrobe alongside my old plain clothes was a small comfort; a reminder that the past few months really _had _happened. Maxon wandered around the room, gently touching his fingers to old photos and mementos. Watching him reminded me of the way I felt the first time I'd seen his room. He spotted a coin taped to my mirror, and looked at me questioningly.

"It's from my first proper show," I explained, "The first time I was paid to sing."

"I wish I could hear you sing properly."

I felt myself blush again, "Well, Elena and I were going to ask if we could organise for all of us to gather and sing Christmas songs and carols on Christmas Eve."

Maxon grinned, "That sounds like a perfect idea."

We both perched on the edge of my bed, and I found my gaze drifting out of the window towards the treehouse that had once meant to much to me.

_Aspen._

Trust was the hurdle that stood in the way of Maxon and I having a future together. Now that Clarkson was gone, it was the _only_ thing causing us problems. I'd done everything I could to earn Maxon's trust, but looking out at that treehouse I realised there was one big secret that I'd been keeping from him - that would eat me up until I came clean.

It was time to tell the whole truth.

I took both of Maxon's hands in mine, and took a steadying breath.

"Maxon, there's something I have to tell you."

* * *

**ShadowhunterWithABow - I always felt like he should call her Mer too!**

**PeetaOrMaxon - Aww, thank you! There's still a while to go before a proposal.**

**prnamber3909 - Haha, that is mean! I'm not sure about doing Aspen/Maxon POVs, but we'll see!**

**Abbie loves reading - I promise it'll all make sense in the next few chapters!**

**maggiebswim - Yay! I'm glad you enjoyed that chapter :)**

**Karategirl537 - That's lovely. Thank you so much!**

**taylorrose05 - Thank you so much!**

**magicdance123 - Thanks for reading!**

**Guest mih - Don't worry, I can't bring myself to be too mean to him :)**

**theselectionqueen - Thank you!**

**zeldafanatic0555 - Haha, but it would have been boring without a bit of Aspen! ;)**

**HyperFLUFFY - Now now, they've got to keep up appearances!**


	22. Goodbye

**I hope you're all having a good weekend! I hope you enjoy Chapter 22...**

* * *

"What is is, America?"

Maxon looked so innocent and curious; it was all I could do to remind myself that he'd kept secrets of his own. I reminded myself of the time I'd stumbled across him with Celeste, and seen him kiss Braelyn despite the promises he'd made to me. Maxon was a good man, but he'd made mistakes. I could only hope that he'd bear that in mind when I told him my own secret.

I chewed my lip nervously, not quite sure where to begin, "You see that treehouse out there? That's where my ex-boyfriend and I used to meet."

"Oh," Maxon replied uncertainly, looking confused.

"It might seem a strange thing to tell you," I sighed, taking his hand, "But I need you to understand. Our relationship wasn't the same as the one we have; we were confined to darkness and secrets. It felt exciting, and at the time it I thought we were in love, but the more I think about it, the more I realise that we were never going to have a future together - at least, not a happy one."

"I suppose that's reassuring to hear," Maxon murmured uncomfortably, "But why are you telling me this?"

I took a steadying breath, "He told me to apply for the Selection, and in doing so he broke my heart. Since that day, my feelings for him haven't been the same. I need you to understand that."

Maxon shook his head, "Mer, I don't care about your relationship with your ex-boyfriend. You could have had dozens of ex-boyfriends for all I care."

I couldn't meet his eye, "It's more complex than that. His name is Aspen, Aspen Leger."

I reluctantly watched Maxon's face, waiting for him to fully understand the implications of what I'd just told him

His eyes slowly darkened, "_Officer_ Leger?"

I nodded solemnly, wringing my hands desperately in my lap.

Maxon shook his head disbelievingly, "Why didn't you tell me? I stationed him outside your room for God's sake!"

I buried my face in my hands, "I was so confused, I didn't know what to say! You knew that part of the reason I'd come to the palace was to escape him, but then there he was..."

Grabbing one of my hands, Maxon looked at me seriously, "Did anything happen between the two of you? Be completely straight with me."

I squeezed my eyes shut, "Soon after he arrived Aspen made it quite clear that he regretted pushing me away - that he still had feelings for me. But I told him that it was more complicated than that - that I'd developed feelings for you."

The tiniest glimmer of hope flashed in Maxon's eyes.

"At the Halloween Ball I was so certain that I wanted to be with you, and if you'd have asked me that night I would have said yes, despite Aspen being there. But then everything with Marlee happened...

"I was angry at you, and for a while I felt like Aspen was the only one who truly understood me."

Maxon frowned, "America, were you two... Intimate?"

I felt bitter tears welling in my eyes, "It was utterly, completely stupid of me. I can see that now. Kissing him was familiar and comforting, but _so_ wrong. It was a mistake, Maxon, and it didn't take me long to realise that."

Maxon stood up, pacing the short length of my bedroom and running his hands through his hair, "You realise that this is grounds for execution, don't you? That at very_ least_ you should be treated the same way as Marlee and Woodwork?"

I nodded reluctantly, and breathed, "I know."

We were both silent for a moment, but eventually Maxon spoke, "Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because I realised how stupid it was of me to be angry at you," I choked, "And I don't want there to be any more secrets between us. Aspen is my past, but you're my present, and I want nothing more than for you to be my future. You deserve the truth, Maxon."

He looked conflicted, still pacing along the battered floorboards, "I suppose part of me is glad you felt you could tell me, but what do you propose I do? I can't have Leger around the palace anymore."

"I know," I replied, trying to sound as even as possible, "But I think I have a solution. His sister is sick and his family is struggling. If he could stay here as my family's guard then he'd be closer to them."

His eyes narrowed, and he shot me a pained look, "Why should I do him that kindness? He broke your heart, and then tried to come between us."

I sighed, "You wouldn't be doing him a kindness - you'd be doing me one. As long as he's at the palace, he'll try and make me questions my feelings for you, and I can't stand it anymore. I don't want anything coming between us. Also, his family are good people - his mother is all on her own. She needs help. My family are worried about them."

He ran his hands down his face, "Alright, but on the condition that you tell him first thing in the morning. I don't trust myself to be around him right now..."

Maxon had never seemed more threatening than he did in that moment; I didn't dare imagine what he wanted to do to Aspen.

"Also," he added, not quite able to meet my eye, "Tell him to stay with his family until we've returned to Angeles. Your family's current guards will explain their system to him once we're gone."

I nodded, a single rebellious tear racing down my cheek, "I will. I'm so sorry, Maxon."

"We've both made mistakes, America," he sighed heavily, "Goodnight."

* * *

I couldn't sleep that night; I was torn between worrying about Maxon, and stressing about what I would say to Aspen. At first light, I rolled out of bed and got myself washed, pulling my hair into a ponytail and grabbing the first clothes in my wardrobe, which turned out to be the khaki shorts and the green tunic top I'd worn on the day I applied for the Selection. The fabrics felt alien against my skin after months spent in luxuriant palace clothes, and when I looked in the mirror I was greeted by an outdated version of myself; the old America, who'd lived in a very small world indeed.

Despite it being early, my parents were already awake. In the kitchen, my dad was drinking a large mug of tea, and my mom was already getting to work on breakfast. Judging by the apron secured around her waist, she'd already been up an hour or so cleaning. I couldn't help but laugh to myself, and headed over to where she stood, placing a kiss on her cheek.

"Mom, you really don't need to try so hard."

She glared at me like I'd suggested the sky wasn't blue.

"America! The _prince_ is staying in our home, and after that... Unpleasantness with his father, he might even be _king _before we know it! Excuse me for putting in a little extra effort with breakfast."

I looked over at my dad and rolled my eyes, but he looked strangely serious, placing down his tea and addressing me sternly, "Speaking of which, I'm still not sure how I feel about you staying in the palace after he dared to lay a finger on you. They weren't entirely clear with us about what happened - what did he do to you, kitten?"

I flinched at the memory, "It's something I'd rather not talk about. Let's leave it on a need to know basis, and all you need to know is that Clarkson is as good as gone. Maxon will keep us all safe from now on."

My parents still didn't look convinced, but they didn't argue either. It was a sore topic, but something we couldn't ignore completely.

"I've got some business to discuss with the guards, but I'll be back in time for breakfast," I explained with a small smile, heading towards the door before they could continue the subject of Maxon's father. I couldn't bear to think about him right now.

It was bright but bitter cold outside, so I pulled on my beaten-up old denim jacket that was still hanging by the door. One of Maxon's guards was stationed just outside.

"Good morning, Lady America," he greeted with a bow when he heard the door open, "May I help you?"

I managed a smile, "Good morning, Officer. Prince Maxon has asked me to discuss something with Officer Leger."

The guard nodded, "Of course, Lady America. One moment."

He hurried around the corner, and I heard him shout, "Leger! We need you up front."

A moment later he returned with Aspen, who at first looked concerned, but his gaze softened when he saw me stood in the doorway in my old clothes. He just about remembered to bow.

"Lady America."

"Officer Leger," I replied, bowing my head politely, "The Prince has asked me to discuss something with you. Will you walk with me?"

"Of course, miss."

We avoided any of the main thoroughfares, wary of lurking reporters, and instead walked out into the scrubland that stretched behind the house.

"Well this is a pleasant surprise," Aspen chuckled when we were far enough away from the house, "I can't say I was expecting you to seek me out, especially during your _special trip_ with the Prince."

I frowned, and his expression fell.

"Aspen, this isn't a joke. My mom told me something upsetting last night; Celia is sick."

Aspen's mouth dropped open, "What?"

"Your mom didn't want to tell you," I sighed, rubbing my arm nervously, "She didn't want you to worry, but I thought you should know."

"Why wouldn't she tell me?" Aspen asked, sounding wounded.

I shook my head, "I'm sure this is equally hard for her, but I've found a way for you to help them."

"How?" Aspen replied, looking desperate.

"Maxon has insisted you stay here in Carolina as my family's guard, and that you spend the duration of our trip with your family. We've more than enough protection as it is."

Aspen looked confused, "Stay here permanently? But Mer, I want to be close to you."

I shook my head, "This is it, Aspen. I've made my choice. I told Maxon everything, and he's showing us both mercy by letting you stay here, instead of..."

I didn't need to finish the sentence. We both knew what I meant. Images of Marlee and Carter being mercilessly caned danced across my mind

"So, this is goodbye?"Aspen asked, he tone defeated.

I bit my lip and nodded, "Yes, for now at least. You'll always have a place in my heart, Aspen, and I hope that someday we can put this behind us and be friends."

"Mer, please-"

I interrupted him, unable to hear any more of what he had to say, "I have to go now. Look after Celia, and send your family my love."

With that, I turned back towards the house, leaving Aspen Leger behind me.

* * *

**EileenAbbey - He's still far from my favourite character, but it made him feel a bit more human!**

**Athenachild101 - Thank you so much for reading!**

**magicdance123 - Thank you! Hope you liked this chapter.  
**

**Dhenn618 - Haha, I hope you're happy with how I dealt with Aspen!**

**ilona18 - Men with babies are always strangely sweet, but Maxon even more so!**

**Guest mih - I'm so glad it's finally out there! I hated her keeping it secret.  
**

**zeldafanatic0555 - Sorry about the cliffhanger! Hope you liked this chapter.**

**xo-Katerina-ox - Thank you so much! Hope you're not too tired :)**


	23. Important Questions

**Mixed responses to Aspens departure! He's not out of the story for good, but he won't be interfering with Maxerica anymore (yay!). I'm already considering a sequel to this story, and I'm sure he'll play some part in it!**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy Chapter 23!**

* * *

My mother had put on quite the spread for breakfast, with enough variety to rival the palace breakfasts. There were fresh blueberry pancakes, English muffins, a big bowl of fruit salad, and a plate piled with sugared pastries that I recognised from a shop in town that was mainly frequented by Twos and Threes. The smell of freshly brewed coffee hung in the air, and she'd placed two pitchers -one of orange juice, and one of iced tea- on the table. I raised my eyebrows as I took it all in, and she shot me a disapproving look.

"Honestly, America! I go to all this effort and all you can do is raise your eyebrows at me."

A blush crept across my cheeks, and I suddenly felt guilty. I'd become so used to fancy breakfasts that I'd forgotten how much of a stretch something like this would be for my family. My mom was just pulling out all the stops to make sure my trip with Maxon was memorable.

"Sorry mom," I sighed, going over and giving her a light hug, "It's perfect."

She smiled smugly, "That's more like it! Now go let everyone know that breakfast is ready."

I poked my head around the small studio door and found my dad sat at a large canvas daubing layers of thick, colourful paint. He spotted me and smiled over.

"Everything alright, kitten?"

I smiled in return, "Everything's fine. Mom says breakfast's ready."

"I'll be out in a moment," he called, beginning to rinse his brushes and wipe down his overalls.

May and Gerad were both sat cross legged on May's bedroom floor, having an animated discussion in hushed voices. When they spotted me at the door, they waved me inside.

"Breakfast's ready," I announced.

"Okay, but come here first," May replied, gesturing for me to come closer, joining their little circle of conversation.

"What is it?"

"Ames, why did all of those new girls join the Selection?"

The both looked so confused, but I tried to plaster on my warmest smile, "Because Celeste Newsome attacked me and hurt my arm, so she had to be disqualified, and it was too soon for us to go down to the final three."

May's lips puckered, "But why? You two were so cute last night. You're obviously in love. Why doesn't he just chose you and end it?"

I sighed sadly, and placed a gentle hand on May's shoulder, "It's a bit more complicated than that."

"Are you going to marry him?" Gerad asked bluntly, tracing a finger along the grain of the floorboards, "Mom says that if you marry him we'll all be Ones, so I won't have to do this stupid creative stuff anymore."

I frowned lightly, "There's a chance, but I can't know for sure. We'll have to wait and see."

May groaned and fell dramatically back onto the floor, bringing the back of her hand to her forehead, "It's all so _stupid_. If he loves you he should just pick you already!"

I couldn't help but laugh. In May's head, romance was so black and white. Maybe she had the right idea.

"Right, come on you two," I announced decisively, "Breakfast's ready and mom will be getting impatient."

I stood up to leave, and they reluctantly followed. After shepherding them in the direction of the kitchen, I went to find Maxon. After last night, I felt a knot in my stomach. He'd had all night to digest my revelation, and there was no way I could possibly know how he'd be feeling.

I took a steadying breath, and knocked firmly on Kenna's old bedroom door. Maxon had clearly been waiting, as it only took a second for him to answer. For a moment he was silent, taking in the sight of me in my old Five clothes.

"You look... different," he observed, with an expression halfway between concern and wonder, "You look like you did in your application photo."

I shrugged shyly, "I just threw something on so I could go talk to Officer Leger this morning."

Maxon winced slightly at Aspen's name, but it didn't take him long to compose himself, "How did it go?"

I sighed, pressing a fingers to the corner of my eye, "It was fine. I think he's concerned about his sister more than anything else."

Maxon frowned, but didn't reply. I decided to change the subject, feigning a brighter voice.

"Anyway, breakfast is served your highness!"

He just about managed a half smile, and followed me through to the kitchen.

"Morning, Maxon!" my dad greeted with a hearty smile, inviting Maxon to sit beside him at the table. Despite everything, he seemed relieved that he was on such good terms with my father. I sat beside him, and my mother came to pour us both glasses of iced tea.

"Don't worry mom, I can pour it," I insisted, but she waved me away.

"Oh shush, America. I won't have any of that. This trip is supposed to be your treat."

Despite the slight tension between Maxon and I, it was a treat. A few weeks ago I never would have imagined myself sat in my old family home, surround by everyone I loved. Maxon's aggravation seemed to thaw as my mom served him endless rounds of pancakes and pastries, and my dad grilled him about the palace and it's architecture; all the questions he'd wanted to ask on their trip, but hadn't had the chance.

I reminded myself that my dad had blessed Maxon and I's relationship, and a comforting warmth spread through me. It was all I could do to hope that my revelation about Aspen hadn't ruined everything. Maxon knew everything now, and if he did decide he still wanted me, at least I'd know that he wanted me completely.

After breakfast we all chipped in clearing up, then my dad returned to his painting, and May and Gerad settled back down at the table with their language studies. My mom then went to rehearse, leaving Maxon and I alone.

* * *

Despite the bitter cold, it was a bright day outside, so Maxon and I found an old blanket and settled down in the garden. It wasn't quite the same as the time together we spent in the palace gardens, but the comforting familiarity and the absence of any of other girls made it just as pleasant.

The faint strains of my mother playing the piano floated outside, and I could just about hear May and Gerad chatting to one another, practicing their French. The sounds wrapped around me and warmed me to my core.

"Are we... Alright?" I asked reluctantly after sitting in silence for a while.

Maxon took a moment to answer, "Yes, I think we are. America, you must appreciate that it's taken some time for all of this to sink in, but I've been forced to remind myself that you've spent the past couple of months watching me develop relationships with other women. I suppose this has helped me realise how... Hard that must have been for you."

I laughed lightly, "Well, I'd be lying if I said it was fun."

"That's not to say I don't wish you hadn't told me the moment Leger arrived in the palace," he added firmly.

"I know," I murmured, "But can you understand why I was apprehensive?"

Maxon sighed, lying back on the blanket, "I suppose that's the hardest part. I completely understand. If anything you've taught me how love can lead a person to bend the rules."

I smirked to myself, although there was nothing particularly funny about what Maxon had just said. His father's insistence that I didn't win the Selection had left us both scarred.

"You have to understand, I don't love him anymore. I love-"

I caught myself just in time. Those words were something I'd thought a hundred times, but I didn't know if now was the right time to say them. Maxon and I were just finding our feet again.

He suddenly sat up, and looked at me seriously, "What were you about to say?"

I shook my head, "Maxon, I-"

"No," he interrupted me, placing his hand over mine, "What were you going to say?"

His gaze was so intense that I struggled to meet it, but when I did, the words tumbled from my lips, "I love you, Maxon Schreave. I never expected to, but my feelings crept on me, and now I've never been more certain of anything in my life. I love you."

Maxon's lips had fallen open, and his eyes were wide. I suddenly felt incredibly self conscious, but just as I was about to backtrack he leaned forward and caught my lips in his, pressing himself to me. The kiss took me by surprise, but I was more than happy to fall into it. His arms coiled around my waist, and my hands found their way to his neck. It was unlike any of the kisses we'd shared before, it was more certain, neither of us holding back. My fingers knotted in his fair hair, and he held me tightly to his chest, hands pressing urgently into my back

After a minutes or so, he broke away breathlessly, his lips finding my ear, "I love you too, America Singer, more than you could possibly know. I've been fighting for you since the moment we met."

I felt a couple of hot tears escape my eyes, and buried my head in his shoulder shyly to hide them. He said nothing, he simply held me close, stroking my hair.

"Mer," he sighed, coaxing me away from his shoulder and brushing the moisture from my cheeks, "There's something I wanted to tell you whilst we were here, and there's no point in putting it off."

I cocked my head to one side; after everything that had happened, I couldn't imagine what other revelations could come out.

"What is it?"

He smiled lightly, raising an uncertain hand to the back of his neck, "Well, my mother and I have spent some time talking with the royal advisers, and we've decided it makes sense to bring my coronation forward. It's what I've been training for my whole life, and my mother can help me rule until I'm married."

I blinked away the last of my tears, "So, you're going to be king?"

Maxon nodded, "All being well, the plan is to have the coronation on New Years Eve. Our advisers think it will be good for public morale; new year, new leadership."

Part of me had been preparing for this, but I'd never truly been able to imagine how I'd feel, or what questions would become most prevalent, "What will that mean? For us, for the Selection?"

Maxon smiled comfortingly, caressing my hand, "The Selection will continue as normal. Traditionally a Prince has to be married before he can inherit the throne, but we all consider it too outdated an ideal to really enforce it. Besides, I'm well on my way to finding my bride."

I felt my cheeks blush furiously, and willed the bitter air to cool them.

"New Years Eve, huh? That's soon."

He nodded, looking a little nervous, "I know. I'll probably make another couple of eliminations between then and Christmas. No need to drag this thing out."

"Aside from that, will things change?" I asked reluctantly.

"I'll be a bit busier," he mused, "But like I said, my mother will be helping me. But more importantly, it means I'll have power - _real_ power. We can finally start changing things, Mer! We'll have to move slowly, of course, but the possibilities..."

I blinked in surprise. I'd been so wrapped up in everything else that I hadn't realised what Maxon being king _really _meant. He was right - as of New Years Eve, he'd have the power to completely change the way Illéa operated.

"I was wondering, regardless of how the Selection pans out, will you stay in the palace with me? I want to change things, and I think you're on to some great ideas. If I'm going to change this country, I need your voice and ideas."

My heart was flying in my chest. On one hand, I didn't know if I could stand to be around Maxon if he chose someone else, but on the other, how could I pass up the opportunity to help free Illéa from the restraints of the caste system? To rid the country of it's social injustices, and allow my little brother to pursue whatever life his heart desired?

"Of course, Maxon," I sighed, placing a tender kiss on his cheek, "Regardless of what happens, I'll be there for you."

* * *

**ilona18 ****- Thanks! Hope you enjoyed the little bit of 'intimacy' in this chapter ;)**

**maggiebswim - Yay! Glad you're enjoying this turn of events.**

**Sarasmile247 - Thank you, I'll keep striving to update everyday!**

**HyperFLUFFY - Wow, that's extreme! Poor America.**

**PeetaOrMaxon - Hope you enjoyed the little bit of Maxerica cuteness!  
**

**Guest mih - That's not the end of Aspen's story, don't worry!  
**

**Karategirl537 - The first two chapters certainly surprised me. I don't know what to expect!**

**zeldafanatic0555 - Don't worry, he's not gone for good!**

**Dhenn618 - Thanks for reading!**

**AmberRena - Thank you so much, I'm glad you're enjoying it!**


	24. Family Christmas

**Today's chapter is just a sweet little Christmassy one. I hope you all enjoy it and don't find it too cheesy!**

* * *

I'd told Maxon I loved him. I'd _actually _told him.

Of course, I'd been aware of my feelings for a while, but part of me hadn't intended to tell him until the Selection was over and I was entirely sure of his feelings towards me. After everything with Aspen, I'd been so reluctant to put my heart on the line again.

Yet here I was.

I was curled up on the back doorstep, hands around my knees, watching Maxon kick a battered old ball around the garden with Gerad. He had no idea what he was doing, but he looked happier and more relaxed than I'd ever seen him before. Gerad simply looked happy to have made a new friend who didn't nag him to find his artistic calling every five minutes. Despite the cold, it was such a bright day that the doors were all open, and I could hear my mom and May chatting in the kitchen as they prepared dinner.

"You look thoughtful. What's on your mind?"

I looked up to find my dad leaning in the doorway smiling down at me. He was holding a mug of hot spiced apple juice that he passed down - the warmth was welcome on my cold hands.

I shuffled over so he could perch beside me, "Just... Things."

He nudged me gently with his shoulder, "What things?"

"Can you keep a secret?" I asked, to which he simply rolled his eyes with a despairing smile.

"Of course I can, kitten."

I took a sip of the aromatic hot apple juice to steady myself, "He told me something big earlier - his coronation had been brought forward to New Years Eve."

He let out a long, low whistle, "Wow, that is big."

We both sat in silence for a minute or two, watching Gerad play ball with the man who would be king of Illéa in just a couple of short weeks. It was a very strange thought indeed.

"That's not all," I eventually continued, "Regardless of who wins the Selection, he wants me to stay at the palace as an adviser."

His eyes widened, "America, that's incredible."

"I know!" I laughed with disbelief, "Imagine the changes we could make..."

My dad chuckled softly, "I'm proud of you, kitten, although I wouldn't question your chances in the Selection. I think it's safe to say that when this thing comes to an end, you'll be more than just an adviser."

I swallowed uncertainly, "You really think I could be queen?"

He wrapped an arm around my shoulder, "With that boy by your side, I think you could do anything you put your mind to. You've always been headstrong and passionate, Ames, but I've never seen you as strong and happy as you've been these past few months. Prince, King, One - whatever his title may be, at the end of the day I can tell he's good for my little girl."

A felt a lump swell in my throat. A couple of weeks ago, Aspen had claimed that he knew me better than anyone, but he was wrong; my _dad_ knew me better than anyone.

"You honestly believe I can do this?" I choked with a smile.

He brushed my hair out of my face, cupping my cheek, "More than that, kitten, I _know_ you can do this."

* * *

Kenna and James joined us for dinner again, although thankfully there was no Kota. We decided we'd make that evening our unofficial family Christmas, draping the few garlands we kept stored in the cupboard under the stairs and even cracking open a couple of bottles of wine. May and I disappeared into my room to get changed into slightly smarter clothes. She'd grown by a few inches, and insisted we'd make some of my palace clothes fit her.

"I'm not as good at sewing as your maids," she laughed, rooting around our mom's sewing box, "But I know how to take in a skirt by an inch or two."

She picked out a ballerina length red taffeta skirt, and held up it up her waist. After pinning it in place she announced, "Yep, I can make this work!"

As she sat on my bed sewing, I tried my best to recreate Mary and Anne's work, crudely pinning my hair up and smearing on a little makeup. Before the Selection I'd done all of my own hair and makeup for my performances, but my skills didn't compare to theirs. Nonetheless, I was satisfied with what I saw in the mirror by the time I slipped on a fresh blouse and a knee length purple silk skirt. May looked stunning, the red taffeta perfectly complimenting her fiery hair. Although she never usually wore makeup -our mother insisting she was too young- she insisted I give her the slightest hint of red lip gloss.

"I wish I'd been old enough to enter the Selection," she sighed, stroking the luxuriant palace clothes hanging in my wardrobe.

I laughed lightly, packing away the few pieces of makeup, "It's not all it's cracked up to be, I promise."

"But that's because you never even wanted to marry a prince!" she announced dramatically, and I couldn't help but giggle.

"If it makes you feel any better, May, I happen to have met two young princes your age."

May's head snapped around enthusiastically, "Ooh, tell me more!"

"Well," I chuckled, slipping my feet into a pair of modest kitten keels, "Their names are Alexander and Seth. I met them at the Winter Ball, and they're twins."

"Twins?!" May squealed, clapping her hands together.

I cocked an eyebrow teasingly, "Not just twins - _English_ twins."

May positively swooned, "Oh my God, Ames. If you win you have to _promise_ to introduce me."

I grabbed her hand, coercing her out of my bedroom and away from the subject of boys, "I promise."

* * *

Dinner was even more of a treat than breakfast; cured meats, roast duck, honey glazed vegetables, stuffing, and homemade cranberry sauce. It was grander than any Christmas meal my family had ever, and we all piled our plates high. Kenna even fed Astra the tiniest spoonfuls of cranberry sauce and honey glaze. Watching her little face react to the new flavours was utterly adorable.

We all made sure to leave space for dessert, which was equally fantastic. Heavy fruit pudding laced with brandy, mince pies, and decadent chocolate cake shaped like a log and adored with fondant holly leaves. When everyone looked to my mom with astonishment in their eyes, she simply shrugged and announced, "The palace sent a bit of extra money when they told us America and Prince Maxon were coming to stay. Now dig in!"

Maxon had two slices of chocolate log, routinely complimenting my mom on her culinary skills, "This is incredible, Magda. The palace chefs could learn a thing or two from you!"

She blushed in response, "Well I'm not sure about that, your highness, but thank you. I've been practicing."

After dinner we all settled down on and around the sofa with mugs of hot spiced apple juice. Kenna placed Astra on the floor, and Maxon and I sat either side of her, playing with her flailing arms and catching her minuscule feet between our fingers. Little noises bubbled from her lips, and Kenna insisted she must like us both very much. Maxon smiled and took my hand, leaning over to whisper something in my ear.

"I've never seen your more beautiful than you are when you're with Astra. Babies suit you, Mer."

He grinned wickedly, and I felt a furious blush flood my cheeks. At least I knew one thing - he'd definitely forgiven me for my revelation about Aspen.

"How about some music?" my mom eventually announced, to which everyone responded with sounds of delight. It was our favourite Christmas tradition, and one we always looked forward to. Everyone insisted I play the piano, whilst my mom went to fetch her violin.

"Are you familiar with old Christmas songs, Maxon?" Kenna asked, to which Maxon shook his head nervously.

"I know some," he admitted, "But I've never had the mind for remembering lyrics."

"Me either," my dad admitted, nudging Maxon with his elbow, "But it doesn't stop me enjoying them!"

We started with a number of classic carols, which nearly everyone joined in with, even Maxon remembering a few chorus lines. We then moved on to a few songs from back when Illéa was the United States of America. They were less familiar with most Illéans, but they were some of my favourites.

"Do your song, Ames!" May suddenly demanded, and I saw Maxon cock his head to the side curiously. I felt myself blushing; Maxon had yet to see me sing properly, and the thought made me strangely nervous.

"Yes, you must!" my mom insisted, shooing me away from the piano, "I'll play, you just sing."

I swallowed, my throat suddenly feeling incredibly dry. 'My song', as May put it, was called _Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas_, and apparently it had once been a festive favourite before our access to old world culture had been strategically limited. It was one of those small things that my family had managed to keep hold of over the years.

My mom began to play, and before I knew it I was singing. I sang it every year, and it was so familiar; one of those songs I could sing without really thinking about it. My gaze drifted to Maxon, and I found him staring straight back at me, eyes intent and his lips curled into a small smile.

"_Through the years __w__e all will be together,__ i__f the Fates allow__._"

As I sang that lyric, and I found myself looking around the room, realising how poignant the words felt at that moment. My parents, May, Gerad, Kenna, James, Astra, _Maxon_; all the people dearest to me. If only things could be like this all the time, but reality was crueler than that.

The song drew to a close, and everyone applauded. I curtsied with a giggle, and went to sit beside Maxon.

"That was beautiful," he breathed in my ear, "I've never heard that song before."

"It's a family favourite," I explained with a small smile.

Maxon sighed contentedly, "This is so nice. We should definitely do this on Christmas Eve like you suggested. My mother would love it, especially after everything that's happened recently."

My heart fluttered in my chest, "I'd like that."

* * *

**Sarasmile247 ****- I wanted him to become king too. Long live King Maxon!**

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	25. The Treehouse

**As much as we all enjoyed the trip to Carolina, it had to come to an end eventually! But don't worry, there's plenty of excitement to come back at the palace. ****Hope you enjoy Chapter 25...**

* * *

After one too many glasses of wine, I'd fallen asleep in Kenna's old room tangled in Maxon's arms. My parents had laughed at my sudden ability to drink, and I'd blamed it on the Italian royal family. It'd been such a festive evening all round, and everyone had gone to bed with full stomachs and foggy heads.

I woke up in the early hours when Maxon rolled over in his sleep. Realising that I was still fully dressed with pins digging into my scalp, I untangled myself from the sheets and crept out to my own room. After unpinning my hair and washing away my makeup, I slipped into a comfy old pair of pajamas, and curled up in my own bed, enjoying the familiarity of my own worn sheets before we were carted back to Angeles in a couple of days.

Just as I was beginning to drift away, I heard a brief tap on my window. I jolted upright - after so many months in the palace, I'd started to automatically attribute strange noises in the night to rebel attacks. After a moment I managed to remind myself that I wasn't in the palace, and the house was surrounded by guards.

Another tap.

This time I had no choice but to see what was going on. I peered through the glass, and saw the silhouette of a guard facing my window. When he saw me, he simply pointed to the treehouse then began to walk away.

_Aspen?_

My heart was racing in my chest. I looked around, but there seemed to be no other guards patrolling that side of the house, so I shimmied my way out of the window. I was a little out of practice, but I still managed to do it without making too much noise.

As I hit the cold night air, I once again became all too aware of the fogginess in my head; the wine had yet to work it's way out of my system, and somehow the fresh air made me all too aware of it. I tried not to let it distract me, and padded my way over to the treehouse as quietly as I could.

Sure enough, Aspen was curled up inside. Shrouded by night and wearing his uniform, he'd managed to slip by the rest of the guards with ease. The treehouse felt smaller than it had before the Selection; we'd both outgrown it.

"Mer," he sobbed as I pulled my way inside, his voice suddenly cracking, "I needed to see you."

Something shifted inside me; it was a very rare occasion that Aspen would allow himself to cry in front of anyone. Despite everything, I shuffled over and pulled him into my arms. He clung to my pajamas and sobbed like a child.

"Aspen, what is it?" I asked desperately.

"Celia," he choked, "It's bad."

My heart ached for him. I couldn't imagine how I'd feel if May or Gerad were that sick.

"She's so pale, and she's lost so much weight," he continued, "You can see all the bones in her face, she looks like a completely different person."

I stroked his hair and held him tight, all the while wishing there was something I could do to make everything better. Celia had been slim as it was - she didn't have any excess weight to lose.

"Has she seen a doctor?" I asked, not sure what else I could say.

Aspen nodded pitifully, "Yes, they managed to scrape together the money for one, but he said that the best thing we can do now is try to make her as comfortable as we can. You know what that means..."

A fresh wave of tears overcame him, and there was nothing I could do but hold him. Without thinking, I began to sing. Just a silly little nursery rhyme that I'd used to comfort Gerad with when he was little.

Eventually the tears dried up, and Aspen pulled away from me. I could see slivers of moonlight reflecting in his eyes, and he looked so much younger than his years.

"Kiss me, Mer," he choked, reaching a hand out to my cheek, "Please."

I shied away from his outstretched hand and shook my head, "I'm sorry Aspen, but our relationship can't be like that anymore."

"Why not?" he demanded breathlessly, "I'm a Two now. I can give you whatever it is you want!"

"No," I sighed, wrapping my arms around my knees, "You can't."

"Why not?"

I let my face fall into my hands, "Because, believe it or not, I _love _him, Aspen! There's no materialistic motivation behind it. I just want to be with him."

Aspen shook his head, "You know I can't believe that, Mer. My world is falling apart around me. You've always been the one thing holding me together. I _need_ us to be alright."

I held his hand hesitantly, "I'm sorry, but the sooner you come to terms with this the less you'll be hurting both me and yourself. I want us to be friends, Aspen, but that can't happen until you accept this."

Aspen was silent, so I shifted away towards the door. We were really pushing our luck, and I had to get back inside before another guard appeared, "You need to stay away until Maxon and I are gone, or you'll get us both in trouble. Send your family my love. I'll pray for Celia."

* * *

The next day was a blur of laughter, games and good food. I was still worried about Aspen, but it was hard not to be sad when Maxon was so enthusiastic. He asked me to teach him a few basics on the piano, then he insisted on helping make lunch. In the afternoon, he pulled out one of his cameras and asked if he could take some photos of May and I out in the garden. I was apprehensive, but May loved the idea.

"I want to take one of you two!" she insisted after she'd spent half an hour dragging me around the garden, coercing me into different poses.

Maxon looked a little nervous, but handed her the camera nonetheless, helping put the stap around the neck, "Alright. You hold it like this, with your left hand under the lens. You can twist is to zoom in and out. Press this button halfway to focus, then press it all the way to take a photo."

"Got it!" May announced with a laugh, snapping a photo of Maxon's surprised face.

She made us sit together in the grass, then took some photos of us through the cluster of evergreens that grew in the corner of the garden. Despite his initial nerves, Maxon relaxed into it quickly - it was hard not to with May directing us. His hands settled around my waist, and his lips pulled back into a wide, warm smile.

"Did Celeste give you a few modeling tips before you eliminated her?" I teased, cocking an eyebrow. Maxon didn't reply, he simply tickled me as a punishment. I heard the click of the camera as May immortalised our play fight.

"Oh God, delete those photos May!" I moaned, reaching for the camera, "I'm such an ugly laugher."

Maxon pushed his way in front of me, "Don't you dare. I happen to think you look beautiful when you laugh, and I can't wait to see the photos."

I stuck out my tongue immaturely, and May beamed in delight,

"You two are so mean, ganging up on me like that!" I giggled, my cheeks pink with laughter.

May removed the camera from her neck, passing it back to Maxon, "You're such a diva, Ames."

I grinned and pulled her into a hug, "No I'm not."

"Are too."

I sighed, realising how much I missed moments like this, "I'm seriously going to miss you when we leave."

"I'll miss you too," she moaned, sticking out her bottom lip, "I expect an invitation to the palace as soon as possible."

"I'll see what I can do."

* * *

Despite the wonderful few days I'd spent in Carolina, I couldn't help but feel that it was too soon to be leaving when the car arrived for us the next morning. Kenna and James came to see us off, meaning I got to cuddle Astra one last time, then we were both pulled into warm hugs by the rest of my family. Saying goodbye was heart-wrenching, and as the car pulled away I felt tears forming in my throat. I squeezed Maxon's hand, willing them to go away.

There was a crowd of reporters waiting for us outside the airport, along with a crowd of people holding up signs that read 'America Is Still Our Princess!'. Maxon held out his arm for me as we both plastered on smiles, waving politely for everyone to see. Despite myself, I couldn't help but wonder what the press would have to say about our trip together, and as we waited for our plane I asked if I could have a magazine to read. Maxon was happy to oblige, and I saw a fleeting smile flash across his face as he passed it my way. When I looked at the front cover, I could see why.

**America Singer: ****Illé****a's New Darling?**

Underneath was a photo of Maxon and I arriving at Angeles airport of a few days ago, waving happily. I flipped through the pages to find the article, and read eagerly.

_Ever the unpredictable one, the fiery redhead, America Singer, seems to have made quite the turnaround in the Selection. It was not all that long ago that we were all questioning if this headstrong Five would truly make a worthy bride for our beloved prince, however her recent behaviour has changed many opinions. After discussing potential changes to the caste system on the Report, Lady America has won herself an army of supporters. With Celeste Newsome and Elise Whisks out of the running, and Kriss Ambers paling in comparison to a number of the new Selected, Lady America is currently head and shoulders above the rest of the competition._

_When it was revealed that she'd won a trip back to her home province, Carolina, with Prince Maxon, it got us all questioning if this endearing girl had won her place as the prince's favourite too. They certainly made a charming couple as they journeyed to Angeles airport; all smiles and charisma. After the recent controversy surrounding King Clarkson, we're all relieved to see Prince Maxon looking happy again, and we think it's safe to say that we have lady America to thank for that._

_Whilst the new members of the Selection are intriguing in their own right, we're sure we speak for the whole of __Illé__a when we say, 'America Is Still Our Princess!'._

* * *

**Karategirl537 - I definitely want to bring Marlee back in eventually!**

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	26. Confrontation

**So we're back at the palace, and it's time to get the Selection rolling again!  
**

**Hope you enjoy Chapter 26...**

* * *

"So what do you think of my home?" I asked nervously, clutching Maxon's hand as the car drove us back to the palace from Angeles airport.

The corner of his lips pulled up into a half smile, "Mixed feelings."

"What do you mean?" I asked, my stomach dropping.

Maxon laughed lightly, lifting his hand to my forehead to try and smooth away the worry lines that had formed, "I don't mean it like that, darling. You know I adore your family, but seeing the state of their home, and the homes surrounding them. It was a wake up call."

I let out a sigh of relief. If Maxon had thought my family beneath him, it would have destroyed me, but knowing that he was simply concerned for their welfare was fine - a relief, even.

I smiled gently, holding his hand to my cheek, "Things are better than they were. You've already improved their quality of life."

Maxon shrugged, "Knowing that things were worse before just makes it even harder. I have a lot of work to do."

I couldn't deny that. Once Maxon became King, we'd both have a lot of work to do, but it was all in the name of making Illéa a better place. I lifted his hand from my cheek and kissed each of his fingers lightly.

"_We've_ got a lot of work to do, Maxon," I replied, correcting his statement, "You're not alone in this, remember?"

He flashed me a weak smile as the car drove through the palace gates. The moment we pulled to a stop, Silvia was tearing the doors open.

"Your highness, Lady America, you should have sent word that you were running late! We're way behind schedule," she shrieked, shepherding us inside.

Maxon raised his eyebrows; neither of us had realised we were supposed to be back for a certain time. I rolled my eyes in his direction and he stifled a laugh. The holiday was over, and we were both being put straight back to work.

"Go freshen up immediately," she directed, guiding us towards the stairs, "You have twenty minutes before the interview."

Maxon took my hand and we walked up the grand stairs together, "Maxon, what's she talking about? What interview?"

He frowned, "Well, both of us have been pretty much off the radar the past few days. No doubt they want to hear all about the trip."

My stomach churned. I'd learned to handle the Report, however a one on one interview with just Maxon and I was something else. I tried to muster some kind of faux confidence, but Maxon could see right through it.

"Don't worry," he laughed, "You'll be fine! No go pretty yourself up - not that you need to. I'm sure your maids will be pleased to see you."

He placed a playful kiss on my nose, and turned in the direction of his room, leaving me alone. I felt a thrill of excitement at the prospect of seeing my maids again, but there was something else I had to do first. Instead of heading straight to my bedroom, I turned towards the Women's Room.

To my relief, all of the girls were there, meaning that my plan would work perfectly. They all turned when I entered, expressions ranging from excitement to curiousity to unabashed bitterness.

"Afternoon ladies," I sang, "I just came by to say a quick hello."

Braelyn's lips curled into a knowing smile, and she bounced off her seat to hug me, "How was the trip?"

"Perfect," I sighed, "It was lovely to see my family for a while."

"I can imagine. You've been away from them for so long now."

I nodded lightly, "It feels like a lifetime."

"I'm so jealous!" Posey cooed, but there was obviously no malice in her words. She just looked happy for me.

Kriss, however, looked positively spiteful. She was sat in one of the window seats working on a piece of embroidery; ever since she'd discovered it was one of the Queen's favourite hobbies, she'd taken it up herself. When she saw me looking her way she placed it down gently and stood to greet me, smoothing her skirts and trying to look as regal as she could.

"I hope you enjoyed your trip, America," she said evenly, with no real emotion.

I feigned a smile, "Thank you, Kriss. I'm sorry you didn't get to see your family."

She didn't say anything, she just nodded politely.

"Anyway," I sighed, "I've got to dash off for a quick interview, but I just wanted to show my face and say hi."

"It was nice to see you," Braelyn laughed, then she spotted the rolled up paper in my hand, "What's that?"

"Oh!" I replied with surprise. My original plan had been to tactfully leave the magazine someplace near Kriss so she could have a read of the article, but this would work even better, "It's just a magazine Maxon bought me for the journey. I've read it all now if any of you want it?"

"Thanks," Braelyn said as I passed it to her. She read the headline on the front page and raised an eyebrow at me, "_America Singer: __Illé__a's New Darling_, huh?"

I shrugged with a smile, "It's just a silly magazine. I've got to run - see you all at dinner."

Before I left, I stole a glance at Kriss. She looked livid.

* * *

"Prince Maxon, Lady America, I trust you enjoyed your trip to Carolina?" Gavril asked, flashing that perfectly composed smile of his. Maxon and I were sat on a chaise lounge together in the Great Room, being interviewed under bright studio lighting.

"It was a delight," Maxon chuckled tightening his arm around my shoulder, "Lady America's family are every bit as warm and entertaining as she is."

Gavril turned his attention to me, "Lady America, how did it feel to win the trip home?"

"Wonderful," I sighed, beaming into the cameras, "I never expected to score the highest in the test, and getting the chance to see my family before Christmas was more than I ever could have hoped for."

"Were there any festive celebrations whilst you were there?" he probed.

"Yes. Thanks to the palace's generosity, my family where able to have the best Christmas dinner of their lives."

"Then afterwards we sat around singing Christmas songs," Maxon added with a smile, "Lady America's family are incredibly talented."

"It sounds fantastic!" Gavril exclaimed, "So, Prince Maxon, what did you make of the Province of Carolina?"

Maxon looked torn, "It was eye opening, Gavril. Definitely a change from Angeles! Whilst the trip was primarily for pleasure, it did bring to light certain issues I intend to address in the new year."

"We look forward to hearing more about these issues in coming weeks, your highness" Gavril replied, "Now, one final question - Lady America, a little birdie tells me that you were able to meet a new arrival in your family for the first time?"

I couldn't help the smile that stretched across my face, "Yes, my first niece, Astra."

"How wonderful! I imagine that must have been a very special moment to have shared with Prince Maxon?"

We both nodded, leaning our heads together. Somehow the topic of Astra pulled us together like we were bound by a thousand invisible strings.

"It was unlike anything I've ever experienced," Maxon admitted, "Coming from such a small family myself, the Singer household felt so full of life."

"Well, what a perfect way to start your festive celebrations! I'm glad you both enjoyed your trip, and we look forward to seeing you both on the Christmas edition of the Report later this week."

* * *

After the interview, I sat in front of my mirror letting my maids brush out my hair and wipe the stage makeup from my face. As much as I was already missing my family, it was nice to be reunited with the three ladies who had come to know me so well.

"We really did miss you, my lady," Lucy commented as she steamed my dress for dinner, "But it sounds like you had a lovely trip."

"I missed you all too," I admitted, "But it was so nice to see my family, and Maxon really seemed to enjoy himself."

"You were both glowing on the interview, miss," Mary giggled as she applied a new, more natural layer of makeup to my face, "I've never seen Prince Maxon like that before."

"We certainly think you're good for him, miss," Anne agreed, "As do most of the other staff in the palace - even Kriss's maids want to see you win!"

My eyes widened, "Really? Surely not."

"It's true!" Lucy laughed, picking a piece of lint from the dress, "Apparently she can be quite rude about other members of the Selection. Her maids are all sweet girls, and they want to see the prince end up with someone with a kinder heart."

Mary began to pack away my makeup and added, "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but the six of us confer about your all of dresses, just to make sure that yours always shine a little brighter!"

At first, I felt a bit bad for Kriss, but then reminded myself that I had no reason to if she was saying unpleasant things about me, "Well, I suppose it's nice to know that it's not just you three who have faith in me!"

All three of them laughed, and Mary said, "Trust me, miss, it's definitely not just us three!"

We were pulled from our chatter by someone pounding on the door. I jumped in my seat, and all three of my maids looked alarmed. No one ever knocked that aggressively, and I knew we were all thinking the same thing - could it be rebels again?

Thankfully, it wasn't, but it was something nearly as unsettling. After a few seconds we heard Kriss shouting through the wood, "America? I know you're in there."

"Oh crap," I sighed, hugging my robe tightly around myself, "You three should probably wait in the back staircase for a few minutes. I'll give you a knock when she's gone."

They nodded reluctantly, and ducked behind the hidden panel. Knowing they were nearby was a small comfort as I headed to the door and let Kriss inside.

I hadn't thought it possible for Kriss to look scary, yet as she stood there with wide, hard eyes and a tense mouth, she looked unpredictable and terrifying. I noticed the magazine rolled up in her hand, and my throat suddenly went dry.

"Can I help you, Kriss?" I managed to squeak.

She stormed into the room and pointed a finger in my face, "Seriously, America? I thought you were above this! Who do you think you are, _Celeste_?"

My eyebrows shot up, "What do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes and held up the magazine, "Why would you force me to see this? You don't think I'm having a hard enough time right now?"

"Kriss, I-"

"I know your game, America," she interrupted, "You were nice as pie when you knew you were Maxon's favourite, but as soon as you saw him beginning to fall for me you became all sneaky. You provoked Celeste so that she'd attack you and get herself eliminated, you talked Elise into asking to leave, and now you're trying to make me question myself by leaving _trash_ like this around the Women's Room!"

"What the hell," I breathed disbelievingly, "You honestly think I provoked Celeste, and talked Elise into leaving? I know you're not my biggest fan, Kriss, but surely you don't believe I'd actually do those things?"

"I don't know _what_ to make of you anymore, America," she hissed, "But I sure as hell don't trust you, and I am not going to let you chase me out of this competition like you did the others. You might think you've got your little hooks back into Maxon, but this _isn't _over."

My heart was racing in my chest, but I tried to sound almost bored as I said, "Whatever you say, Kriss."

Clearly infuriated by how cool I was remaining, she stormed back out of my room, slamming the door on her way out.

* * *

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	27. Lucy's Guard

**A little bit of Maxerica and a fair bit of drama in this chapter - enjoy!**

* * *

Now that Maxon and I had returned, the palace was being transformed into a yuletide wonderland. As we all sat eating our breakfast, we watched a large tree being erected and adorned with fairylights, whilst silver and gold garlands were draped from the high ceilings. The regular flowers were switched out for poinsettia arrangements studded with gold-dipped leaves, and boxes upon boxes of decadent crystal ornaments were being carefully unwrapped from their tissue paper packaging. The excitement was palpable, and we were all too intrigued by the festive activity to maintain proper conversation.

I felt somewhat giddy as I made my way back to my room. I'd always been fond of Christmas, but I could already tell that Christmas at the palace was going to be on a completely different level from anything I'd ever experienced before. Every corridor was full of maids busy decorating; it seemed that no corner of the palace went unforgotten.

Just as I turned the corner onto my corridor, an arm swooped around my waist and I heard an all too familiar laugh.

"Maxon!" I shrieked as I tried to wriggle free from his hold, "What are you up to? You weren't at breakfast."

He relaxed his grip, allowing me to turn around to face him. His hands settled on my lower back, gently easing me closer.

"Morning meetings," he sighed, rolling his eyes, "It seems I'll have a lot of them over the next week or so. Planning the coronation has become quite demanding."

"I can imagine."

"But," he continued, his tone brightening, "I wanted to see you, even if just for a moment. I thought I might be able to catch you on your way back from breakfast."

"Well aren't you sweet," I laughed, pressing up on my toes to place a kiss on his cheek.

"The sweetest," he teased, before pulling a sprig of rounded leaves with milky white berries from his pocket, "Now, Miss Singer, do you have any idea what this is?"

I shrugged innocently, "I've never seen anything like it before."

"Interesting," Maxon replied with a wicked smile, dangling the sprig above our heads, "It's called mistletoe. In the old days, it was a Christmas tradition for people to kiss when they were underneath it."

I felt my cheeks begin to heat up, "Is that so?"

"Indeed," he crooned, taking my chin lightly in his other hand, "Now, Miss Singer, don't you think it only right of us to respect the traditions of our ancestors?"

I sighed dramatically, like it was all some massive inconvenience, "Well, I suppose you're right."

He crashed his lips to mine, and I wrapped my hands around his neck, pulling myself as close to him as was physically possible. I was all too aware of how exposed we were in that corridor, but that was part of what made it so exciting. My heart was racing, and I could feel Maxon's heart matching it's pace through the fabric of his suit. I pressed a hand to his chest, feeling it thrum beneath my fingertips.

Maxon pulled away sooner than I would have liked, his lips relaxed into a dreamy smile. He placed a final parting kiss on my forehead and said, "Better not push our luck. I'll try to see you soon."

With a final wink, he left, leaving me a little dazed but incredibly happy. I was glad that the spark we'd rediscovered in Carolina was still burning bright, and that Maxon seemed to be in such good spirits despite the extra work he was taking on.

Eventually I turned towards my own room. The door was ajar, and all of the warmth from Maxon's kiss filtered away as I heard the sound of Lucy crying. My first instinct was to race in and comfort her myself, but I knew that the moment I stepped inside my maids would snap to my attention instead of hers. Lucy needed time to vent whatever was upsetting her, and I wanted to be able to understand what was going on. I knew it was wrong of me, but I stood to the side of my door for a moment, just listening.

"Come on now, Lucy," I heard Anne sigh, "Guards come and go all the time. I'm sure he'll be back soon."

"But what if he isn't?" Lucy choked, and I heard Mary comforting her.

"Then maybe it's a sign from above," Anne tried to reason, "We all know that getting involved with a guard is risky."

"It's not like I set out to fall in love with him!" Lucy sobbed pitifully, "He was just so kind and sweet..."

"And now he's gone," Anne sighed, "It's unfortunate, but what can we do?"

Lucy had fallen in love with a guard? My heart ached for her. After her past experiences with love, Lucy deserved her next relationship to be everything she'd dreamed and more, but evidently it hadn't turned out that way.

I couldn't bear to eavesdrop anymore. I straightened myself up, and walked inside. Mary and Anne scrambled to their feet, and Lucy desperately tried to wipe away her tears. I sat down beside her and pulled her into my arms, "Please Lucy, surely you know by now that there's no need to put on a brave front for my sake?"

Lucy shook her head, "Please, miss, you have enough going on-"

"I don't care," I interrupted with a warm smile, "You girls are the closest thing I have to family in this palace, and since you're so committed to helping me, I want to be able to return that favour."

She still looked wary, but in the end she conceded, "How much of our conversation did you hear?"

I placed an arm around her shoulder, "Enough to know that there's a guard, and that now he's gone."

My words triggered a fresh wave of tears to wrack through her small body. Mary and Anne folded to their knees, the four of us sat in a tight little circle on the plush carpet.

"It's more than that, miss," Lucy managed to choke out, her eyes wide with fear, "I think I might be pregnant."

Mary, Anne and I all gasped in unison. Even if Lucy had developed a romantic relationship, none of us would have expected something like this. I held her even closer in my arms, and she allowed herself to break down and cling to me.

"What happened?" I asked uncertainly.

She drew a deep breath to compose herself, and began to stutter out her story, "At first we were just good friends. He'd insist on walking me to my room on late shifts, and I'd sneak him pastries when he was on guard for long periods of time. But then... He began holding my hand, or kissing my cheek when we said goodbye. I didn't know what to make of it, but then he turned up at my room one night. He was drunk and upset about something, but all he wanted to do was hold me. Even in that state, he was still so gentle with me. We began to kiss, and it just... Happened. I know it was stupid of me, I honestly do, but he has a way of making me feel special.

"I was scared, but I reassured myself that everything would turn out alright. He went to Carolina with you, and I'd promised myself I would tell him when you returned. But when you came back, he wasn't with you..."

My stomach sank with cold, sickening realisation. I knew exactly who Lucy's special guard was.

"His name is Officer Leger. Have you any idea what happened to him, miss?"

* * *

For Lucy's sake, I twisted the story. I told her that Aspen was an old friend from Carolina, and that when we'd returned he'd found out his sister was sick, so he'd begged Maxon to let him stay as one of my family's guards until his sister had recovered. I reassured her that he'd be returning to the palace soon.

I felt awful for lying to her.

As I made my way down for lunch, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that threatened to consume me. Back in Carolina, Aspen had continued to voice his feelings for me, and he'd even asked me to kiss him. I didn't know whether to be more angry at him for stringing Lucy along, or for reprimanding me for developing a relationship with Maxon when he'd been doing exactly the same thing behind my back.

_At least you were honest,_ I thought to myself, _Aspen's been lying to everyone._

I was viciously yanked from my thoughts by the sound of the rebel alarm. Although I doubted I had anything to fear from the rebels anymore, I still raced towards the safe room. I was in no mood for another unpleasant encounter with them.

* * *

The hours passed slowly in the safe room. Posie, Rain and Elena sat together telling stories, whist Alyssa and Braelyn kept to themselves. I tried to join the storytelling, but I was in no mood for it, so I eventually excused myself. Unsurprisingly, Maxon had brought a stack of files down from his office, intending to work through the attack.

Kriss was pacing, hands clasped in front of her lilac dress. She began to look more and more panicked, until after an hour or so she gasped and fell to the floor. Maxon and Queen Amberley raced to her side, and a couple of maids tended to her.

"She's fainted, your highness," the more senior maid announced, "I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, probably just stress."

Sure enough, Kriss woke up a few minutes later, eyes wide and confused. She flung her arms around Maxon's neck, and he carried her over to one of the cots, sitting patiently with her whilst she recovered.

I silently rolled my eyes to myself; I had every reason to believe that Kriss had faked the faint in order to draw Maxon's attention away from his work. Unfortunately, her tactics seemed to have worked. She leaned into Maxon's chest as she 'recovered', her pretty face curled into a simpering expression. I couldn't stand to watch them.

When we were given the all clear, I hurried away. After everything that had happened with Lucy, and then watching Maxon with Kriss, I wasn't able to muster a happy face for him, and I didn't want to tear down his high spirits. Instead, I excused myself as quietly as I could, snaking my way back up the stairs towards my room.

What I discovered in my bedroom was unnerving. My maids were just returning, and they looked as stunned as I felt. Covering my bed, and spilling from every surface, were hundreds of wildflowers crudely tied into bouquets. They were everywhere; covering my dressing table, stuffed into draws, filling the bath and sink...

The rebels message was clear; they were rewarding me for winning back my place as Maxon's favourite.

"We need to get rid of these," I murmured, coming back to my senses, "I can't let Maxon see this; it will require too much explaining. We need to get rid of them _all_."

The four of us snapped into action, gathering armfuls of the flowers and tipping them down the concealed disposal chute. By the time we'd finished, all of our arms were scratched up from the twigs and thorns, but at least that would require less explaining than the flowers themselves. I could just make up some story about falling in the garden, and my maids insisted no one would notice their scratches under the long sleeves of their uniforms.

"You can't tell anyone about this," I insisted, although I knew I could trust them. I just had to ensure they knew how important this was.

"Of course, miss," Mary replied, taking one of my hands gently, "We wouldn't want to do anything to harm your chances."

"Thank you."

* * *

**theselectionqueen ****- The Winter Ball was back in Chapters 10-12, sorry for any confusion!**

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	28. The Christmas Report

**Hi everyone! Just a quick warning - tonight I'm going to stay with my family for a couple of weeks over Easter, so I might not be posting _every day _whilst I'm there, since I don't see my younger siblings often and spending time with them will be my priority :) However, I will aim to post every few days at least!**

**I'm starting to think that this story will probably end up around the 50 chapter mark, which means we're over halfway there! Eek!**

**I hope you enjoy chapter 28...**

* * *

It was the evening of the last Report before Christmas, and we'd all been told to wear 'festive' dresses. I asked my maids if I could just wear my snowflake dress from the Winter Ball again, but they looked at me like I'd suggested drowning a barrel of kittens.

"But miss, you can't publicly wear the same dress twice - especially not for something so important as the Christmas Report!" Mary insisted as she rummaged through my makeup draw.

"What do they even mean by 'festive' anyway," I whined, "Do they want me to wrap fairylights around my head? Wear baubles as earrings? Dress up like a Christmas tree?"

Anne shook her head, laughing through the mouthful of bobby pins she was sliding into my hair, "Don't worry, miss. We've come up with something a bit more flattering than a Christmas tree!"

Anne painted my eyes and lips in pearly pink shades, even adding a subtle hint of iridescent glitter, whilst Mary coaxed my hair into a messy halo braid. When she was finished, Lucy came forward with a flat, square box. I couldn't help but notice she was looking a bit green; nasty bouts of morning sickness had been the giveaway of her pregnancy, and on bad days they left her queasy for hours afterwards.

"How are you feeling today?" I asked sympathetically.

She attempted to shrug it off, "Fine miss, same as ever."

I raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, "Please Lucy, be honest with me. I want to help you in every way I can."

She managed to smile weakly, before hurrying off to make the final few alterations to my dress. I was so worried about her, and absolutely fuming with Aspen. I was close to asking Maxon if Aspen could be sent back to Angeles just so I could have some firm words with him about Lucy, but that would mean telling people about her pregnancy. There was a strong chance that being pregnant would compromise her position in the palace, and she couldn't afford that. We all silently hoped that by the time she was showing I'd be in a position of power, and I'd be able to take care of her. It was yet another reason why we hoped Maxon would end the Selection sooner rather than later.

However, if nothing else, Lucy's pregnancy had proved to me that any romantic attachment I'd had to Aspen Leger was well and truly over. I didn't feel betrayed by him, or jealous that Lucy was carrying his child - I was simply angry that he'd been so hypocritical, and that he'd taken advantage of someone as kind and vulnerable as her.

Anne opened the box, and lifted out a glittering crown made of little white snowflakes, studded with tiny sprigs of baby's breath. My heart stopped when she placed it on top of my head; even though it wasn't a 'proper' crown, it was the first time I'd ever worn anything resembling a crown or tiara. All three of us stilled for a moment, simply staring at my reflection in the mirror.

Eventually I broke the awed silence, managing to choke out, "It's beautiful - continuing the snowflake theme are we?"

Anne smiled, "You suited it so well at the Winter Ball, miss."

"Just wait until you see the dress!" Mary exclaimed, and dashed off to help Lucy,

Ten minutes later I stood in front of my full length mirror, stroking a dress that was white as snow. A couple of the Selected had already found occasion to wear dresses that looked vaguely bridal, and it seemed tonight was my turn.

"We added the ice blue snowflake embellishment at the shoulder and hip to break up the white," Anne explained, "You don't think it's too much do you?"

My words stuck in my throat. Ever since I'd come to terms with the fact that I wanted to marry Maxon, I'd tried to imagine myself in a white dress, and here I was being presented with that exact imagine. The skirt was full, but not too poofy, spilling out into an elegant A line silhouette. The white tulle crept around my waist, and up over my shoulder, creating a refined V neck. With the crown and pearly makeup, I looked like a princess from a fairytale.

"It's just enough," I sighed, beaming at my three wonderful maids, "Maxon will love it!"

* * *

"So, Prince Maxon, have the Selected got any special plans for Christmas?" Gavril asked, looking polished in a forest green suit with a sprig of holly pinned to his lapel.

Maxon smiled warmly. His gaze traveled up to me -as it had every so often since I'd entered the room in my striking white dress- then he composed himself and answered the question, "Well Gavril, Lady Elena and Lady America have proposed a night of festive music on Christmas Eve."

"How wonderful!" Gavril exclaimed, flashing his stark white teeth, "Perhaps a new Christmas tradition in the making?"

"Quite possibly!" Maxon laughed, once again glancing up in my direction. I tugged my ear, and he returned the gesture with a wink so fleeting I couldn't be entirely sure whether it had really happened.

"So what about Christmas Day itself?" Gavril probed, leaning forward in his chair, "What can the lovely ladies of the Selection expect?"

Maxon grinned, "Actually, I have a few surprises up my sleeve that I've been intending to announce this evening."

Whispers began to fly between the girls. I knew what one of Maxon's surprises was -the announcement of his coronation- but what other surprises had he been cooking up for us?

"I must confess, of the two surprises I have pertaining to the Selection, one is good, the other bad," Maxon admitted, causing more whispers to fly.

Gavril feigned a frown, "Well, I think perhaps we should get this 'bad surprise' out of the way first, your highness?"

"I think you're right, Gavril," Maxon agreed, turning to face the camera directly, "After the rest of tonight's announcements, I will be making the final elimination before Christmas live on the Report."

The whispers stopped suddenly, and we all sat in silent shock. None of us had been expecting another elimination before Christmas. Despite being quite certain of my standing with Maxon, my stomach still knotted; why hadn't he warned me?

Gavril gasped, "Well, that is a surprise, your highness! Perhaps you should tell us the 'good surprise' before any of the lovely ladies pass out with nerves!"

I would have rolled my eyes at his incredibly tactless, unfunny joke, however a few of the girls really did look ready to faint. Posey in-particular looked downright nauseous, although I doubted she had anything to worry about.

"Well, the good surprise is that all of the remaining Elite will be allowed to invite one member of their family to stay at the palace over Christmas.

Just like that, all the uncertainty in my stomach melted away, and was replaced by pure euphoria; _Maxon had found a way for me to keep my promise to May!_

"Well that certainly will be a treat!" Gavril laughed, "We look forward to seeing the footage."

The pleasant conversation was inter-cut with more serious discussion and the usual announcements, then it was finally time for Maxon to make the most important announcement of the evening.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of Illéa, I am sure you are all aware of the recent upsetting news regarding my father, Clarkson Schreave. After seriously assaulting a member of the Selection, he has been stripped of his title and sent to spend the remainder of his life in an outlying province under strict observation."

A rumble of approval surged around the room. It appeared I wasn't the only person who wasn't a huge fan of Clarkson.

"Of course," Maxon continued, "This means our country is left without a King. After lengthy discussion, it has been decided that my coronation will be brought forward to December 31st, meaning we will be able to enter new year with new leadership and a fresh outlook. My mother, Queen Amberley, will be assisting me and retaining her title of Queen until such a day comes that I have chosen my wife. These are exciting times ahead of us, and -hopefully- the start of a new, better Illéa."

We all applauded, and Maxon bowed his head before raising his hand asking for silence, "Finally, I will be announcing tonight's elimination. After much deliberation, I have decided that the lovely Lady Rain will be going home tonight. Whilst her time in the Selection may be over, I hope that being able to spend Christmas with her family will serve as some form of consolation."

My breath caught in surprise, and I turned to face Rain, the kindest girl in the Selection and my fellow Five. I hadn't got to know her as well as I'd hoped, but that was partially because I hadn't expected him to send her home so soon. What could sweet, quiet Rain have possibly done to deserve this public humiliation? Why was he doing this to _her_, of all people?

The real question burning in my mind was _why not Alyssa_?

* * *

The moment I returned to my room I kicked off my shoes and began to pace, waiting for Maxon. There were so many questions swimming around my head, and the sooner I was able to ask them, the better. Thankfully, he didn't leave me waiting too long.

"You look breathtaking tonight," He announced with a charmingly lopsided smile as he entered the room, "I've been imagining you in white ever since our first kiss."

I tried to ignore my burning cheeks and racing heart, and eyed him seriously, "Why Rain?"

Maxon looked taken aback, "You're upset about that?"

"Of course I am!" I laughed incredulously, "She was the sweetest girl here - she didn't deserve that."

"Really?" Maxon replied, looking unconvinced, "She always seemed a bit... uptight around me."

I wanted to answer back, but if that was true, and Rain really had acted closed off around Maxon, how could I blame him for eliminating her instead of any other girl? I doubted the live elimination had been his idea anyway, but no doubt the public loved it.

"Oh," I sighed, sitting down on the edge of my bed, "I suppose I don't really know then."

Maxon smiled sadly, and wrapped an arm around my waist, "Mer, it's not like I'm giving much thought to the order in which I'm eliminating them. Honestly, I can't wait until they're all gone, and it's just us-"

"Then why not end this thing already?" I interrupted, desperate to understand why we were still dragging the facade out.

Maxon sighed tiredly, "Because we have to make it look _real_. The Selection is a treasured tradition - it has to look like I'm doing it properly."

I moaned in frustration and fell back on my bed. Maxon laughed lightly and laid down beside me, propped up on his elbow.

"Trust me, darling, I'm getting every bit as impatient as you are."

I snuggled into his side, and he kissed me sweetly, taking off my crown so that the snowflakes and delicate flowers didn't get crushed. As the kiss deepened, I pressed my fingers to his chest, dying to unbutton his shirt and feel the skin beneath.

Sensing the building tension, Maxon broke away and looked down at me softly, "So, are you looking forward to seeing your sister again?"

My eyes widened. Of course, _May_! I'd been so caught up in Rain's elimination that I'd forgotten I'd get to spend my first Christmas in the palace with my little sister.

"I can't wait!" I squealed, "She's going to absolutely love it."

He grinned, pressing his lips to my fingers, "You know I'd do anything for you. I want our first Christmas together to be perfect."

I beamed, kissing his nose playfully, "You really are the best. How can I ever begin to thank you?"

Maxon bit his lip thoughtfully, then rolled over so he was on top of me, "Well, you can start by kissing me again."

* * *

**Basedonthosebooks - She's definitely embarrassing herself! Thanks for reading.**

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**magicdance123 - I felt like I needed to stir things up a bit :) Thanks!  
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**WinteryRose - Thank you so much! Fingers crossed Aspen gets it together, eh?**

**maggiebswim - She's definitely not doing herself any favours at the moment!**

**Sarasmile247 - I always liked the idea of it too! I'm not sure why :)**

**prnamber3909 - She's definitely letting her pride slip away!**

**theselectionqueen - No worries! Thank you.**

**Maxerica shipper - Yeah, I'm Team Maxon, although I won't make it easy for them ;)  
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**Athenachild101 - Aspen and Kriss certainly aren't making things easy! Thanks for reading.**

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**DaughterofSea - Accidents happen! Let's hope Aspen does the right thing!**

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**HyperFluffy - She's definitely getting more malicious as the competition goes on!**


	29. Christmas Eve

******Apologies for any overlooked typos in this chapter, I had to write it on my iPad whilst we were traveling.  
**

**A slightly shorter chapter today, but I wanted to give you something this weekend! I promise there will be plenty of Christmassy Maxerica in the next chapter - enjoy!**

* * *

When May arrived on Christmas Eve, my bedroom immediately descended into chaos. She was offered another room, but insisted on staying with me, and no one was going to argue with her. The moment she bounded into my room with her tiny suitcase, Lucy burst into tears. She blamed it on her hormones, meaning we were forced to tell May about her pregnancy.

"That's so exciting!" May squealed, throwing her arms around Lucy's neck, "Congratulations!"

Lucy blushed, "Thank you, Miss May. It was certainly a surprise!"

"But you must keep it secret, miss," Anne added seriously, "At least until your sister has won the Selection."

"You can trust me!" May insisted.

My stomach still churned whenever conversation turned to Lucy's pregnancy. I couldn't get over my anger at Aspen, and my concern for her wellbeing. What if -for whatever reason- I didn't win the Selection? What if she was found out, and thrown out onto the streets? I promised myself that if she was, then I'd insist on going with her.

My maids had made May and I matching powder blue day dresses with raspberry pink embroidery and full skirts. With her fiery red hair pinned back and studded with pearls, she looked like my mini-me. She was already familiar with Maxon, meaning we'd have the advantage over the next few days.

As it turned out, all of the visiting family members were female, so that afternoon Queen Amberley hosted a welcome tea in the Women's Room. May and I were the second to arrive after Kriss and her mother, and when Amberley saw us in our matching dresses she let out a lighthearted laugh unlike anything I'd ever heard from her before.

"Lady America, Miss May, aren't you two a precious sight!"

We both curtsied, May beaming with pride at the Queen remembering her name, "Thank you, your majesty."

Amberley returned May's smile with a warm one of her own, "Please, come join us. Lady Kriss, Mrs Ambers and I were just saying how we can't wait for the evening of music tonight. Maxon tells me it's inspired by a Singer family tradition?"

May and I nodded simultaneously, but it was May who replied, "Yes, your majesty. America and my mom are the best musicians I know."

"Yes," Amberley agreed, "I finally had the pleasure of hearing your sister sing a few weeks ago. Are you a musician too?"

"No, your majesty," May replied proudly, "I'm an artist."

Elena, Braelyn and Posie arrived together with their relatives in tow. Elena's mother was a spitting image of her, except that she had glossy black curls where Elena's were brown. On the other hand, Posie's older sister looked nothing like her - she was ghostly pale, with glossy chestnut hair that fell in a sheet around her shy, pointed face. Braelyn's little sister was about May's age, and shared Braelyn's mysterious eyes and pretty feature. The two of them headed over the May and I instantly.

It turned out Braelyn's sister was called Kemper, and she and May hit it off within moments, comparing their palace dresses and talking about their favourite actors. I shared a smile with Braelyn, and in that moment I could tell that her little sister was every bit as precious to her as May was to me. In a strange way, it made me respect her more.

Ten minutes later Alyssa arrived with her cousin - late, of course. Her cousin, Alouette, could have been Celeste's sister. She had the same polished brown hair, and long, lean modelesque figure. Unsurprisingly, she'd also mastered Celeste's superior smirk.

"Lady Alyssa, Miss Alouette - we were beginning to worry you'd lost your way!" Amberley joked, welcoming them into the circle. They both helped themselves to weak tea, but turned their noses up at the selection of sandwiches and cakes.

"My cousin's luggage was get mixed up, your majesty," Alyssa explained absently, "My maids took a _lifetime _figuring out where it had ended up."

"You see, your majesty, I came straight from a shoot in Italy," Alouette explained, looking positively bored, "I've a rather large suitcase with me, and I couldn't bear to lose it."

Amberley nodded graciously, "Understandably, my dear. Am I correct in believing you're a model?"

"Yes, your majesty," Alouette drawled, "I'm actually signed to the same modelling agency as Celeste Newsome."

With that revelation, Alouette shot a poisonous look in my direction, a look that read _'you got my friend eliminated, and I'm going to make you pay_'.

_Well,_ I thought_, Merry Christmas to me_.

* * *

The Christmas Eve feast was unlike anything the palace had ever put on before. It was comforting and homey, whilst also maintaining the palace's air of perpetual grandeur. The table was laden with sausages, decadent stews served in great silver pots, joints of meat studded with orange slices and cloves, maple glazed vegetables, and a rainbow of different sauces and trimmings. May and Kemper sat together, both piling their plates high and savouring every mouthful of rich palace food. Braelyn, Posie and I made it our aim to try a bit of everything, although by the time we were halfway through the dishes on offer we already full. The wine flowed, and spirits were high. Everyone was happy to have their family with them, and any tensions melted away; even Alyssa looked genuinely happy.

Eventually Maxon stood up, lifting his hand to ask for silence, "Ladies, I hope you've all eaten your fill. Dessert will be served in the lounge on the first floor, where we'll be retiring for an evening of festive music."

The sounds of chairs scraping filled the room as everyone stood up, a few of them refusing to part with their wine glasses, or even grabbing bottles of wine by the neck and carrying them along. I had one arm looped through Braelyn's, and one through Posie's, our cheeks pink with merriment. Kemper and May had raced ahead, eager to be the first in the lounge (and hence have the first choice of dessert).

Maxon had already had a series of instruments brought over, and I instinctively took my place behind the piano, warming up a little whilst everyone else helped themselves to bowls of fruit pudding, chocolate cake, and ginger biscuits with fruit compote. I was still full from dinner, and eager to get to grips with the beautiful lounge piano.

It seemed that Maxon wasn't particularly hungry either, since he slipped onto the piano stool beside me, looking particularly dapper neatly pressed tan pants and a powder blue shirt that matched my dress.

He placed his fingers over mine on the keys and said, "Teach me something."

I laughed lightly, "It's not quite that simple."

"Sure it is!" Maxon argued with a goofy smile, "I'm easy to impress. Pretend I'm a small child who simply wants to do something that sounds vaguely pretty."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help but smile at his persistence. I glanced across the room, and saw Amberley watching us with a warm smile of her own. The next five minutes were spent showing Maxon an arpeggio, and -true to his word- he was simply happy to have made something that sounded passably pretty.

"I've never been very musical," he admitted after playing the arpeggio a dozen times in succession, "But then maybe I never had the right teacher."

"I'd offer to teach you, but I'm used to being the student - not the teacher."

He smiled gently, "I think you'd make a good teacher."

Dessert bowls were collected, and Elena began to check the tuning on the violin. A couple of girls piped up, admitting that they had some experience playing other instruments. Braelyn picked up the acoustic guitar, and whilst her fingers were a little clumsy and out of practice, she was still competent. It turned out that Posie's sister was proficient on flute, giving us a nice little ensemble.

Maxon had taken a seat next to May and Kemper, and judging by how much more familiar he seemed with all of the Christmas classics this time around, I had a feeling he'd memorized some of the lyrics. I couldn't help but wonder where on earth he'd found the time alongside dating six girls and preparing for his coronation.

The atmosphere was so warm and celebratory. It seemed most of the girls knew the classic Christmas songs, and Amberley looked the happiest I'd seen her since everything had kicked off with Clarkson.

I noticed May and Maxon exchanging whispers and evil smiles, and when the final song drew to a close, Maxon stood up and addressed us all, "Thank you for such a wonderful evening ladies. However, Miss May has informed me that no Christmas Eve is complete without Lady America singing 'her song'."

I felt myself blushing as everyone turned to face me, "Please, there's no need for that, your highness! You'll all be bored to tears."

May scowled at me playfully from across the room, "You heard the Prince, America. Sing!"

Everyone apart from Alyssa, Alouette and Kriss laughed, and I was forced to relent. Elena wasn't familiar with _Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas_, so I had to play and sing at the same time. It wasn't the end of the world, but I was a little out a practice, and it always made performing a bit more nerve-wracking. To make it easier for myself, I sang it to May and Maxon, never looking away from them. They were both smiling fond smiles that were just for me, and when the song came to a close, they were the first on their feet applauding.

Everyone began to say goodnight, and lots of hugs and kisses were exchanged. I hung towards the back of the crowd, sorting out the instruments, hoping to say goodnight to Maxon once everyone else had left. May helped, all the while bubbling over with praise for my performance, and how wonderful her day at the palace had been. We both knew we'd miss our family the next day, but I reminded myself that next year we'd all be able to spend it at the palace together...

At least, if everything went according to plan.

Amberley intercepted me before I could say goodbye to Maxon, pulling me into a motherly hug, and discreetly slipping a tiny package into my hand.

"A small gift," she whispered, "Merry Christmas, America."

* * *

**maggiebswim - Yay! Thank you so much.**

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**prnamber3909 - Maxerica feels are the best kind of feels.**

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**d12t4eva - I actually am a writer :) I write fanfiction for light relief between writing my own novels!**


	30. Gifts

**I hope you all enjoy Chapter 30! Plenty of festive goodness to come...**

* * *

Once I was sure that May was fast asleep, I pulled on my robe and slipped the little package Amberley had given me into my pocket. I had no idea what it could be, but something about the secretive way the Queen had given it to me told me that it was something I should open in private. I quietly padded across the room towards my en suite, pulling the door quietly shut behind me.

Perching on the edge of the bath, I fished out the package. It was wrapped in delicate blue paper, dotted with pressed flower petals. It made me smile to imagine Amberley sat her office carefully wrapping it - it was a such a kind gesture.

I eased the pretty paper open, careful not to tear it, and discovered a note and a small box and inside. My fingers trembled with quiet excitement as I unfolded the paper-

_My dear America,_

_I regret that the two of us have not yet had the opportunity to get to know one another better, however I wanted you to know that I am exceedingly fond of you, and I can see how happy you make my son. My husband's view of love and courtship may have become warped over the years, but mine hasn't, and when I see you and Maxon together I see all of the excitement and adoration and possibility that I felt when Clarkson and I were first getting to know one another._

_This pendant is as old as The Selection itself. Over the generations, it has become tradition for the Queen to present it to the member of the Elite she believes has what it takes to win, and thus far, her predictions have always been correct. Clarkson's mother gave it to me when I was in the Elite, and now I'm giving it to you._

_No doubt you know by now how turbulent royal life can be, however I also hope you've learned the rewards. In one short week, Maxon will be King, and I believe with all my heart that you will someday make a wonderful, passionate, proactive Queen._

_Please wear this pendant as a reminder that I have complete faith in you._

_All my love,_

_Amberley_

I raised my hand to my cheek, and discovered it was wet with tears. I'd always admired the Queen; just like Maxon, she embodied all that was good. As much as I tried to match her grace, poise and civility, I knew I could never be quite like her...

However, I was still her choice.

_She believes I can win,_ I thought, clutching the letter to my chest, _she wants me to marry her son_.

With shaking fingers I opened the box, and tipped the pendant out into my hand. It was a blue cameo of the Illéa national emblem, in an ornate gold setting studded with sapphires that sparkled when I held it up to the light. The chain was long enough that I'd be able to wear it under my clothes without anyone knowing.

My eyes welled up again as I looped the chain around my neck, tucking the pendant beneath my nightgown. It was the final push and reminder I needed. Maxon had faith in me, my father had faith in me, the Italians had faith in me, the palace staff had faith in me and now I knew Amberley had faith in me too.

In that moment, for the very first time, I truly believed I could be the next Queen of Illéa.

* * *

May and I were woken by the smell of hot chocolate and mince pies.

Mary drew open the curtains to reveal a dazzlingly bright winter day, and May bounded out of bed, hugging each of my maids and wishing them a merry Christmas. I drew myself upright and stretched, feeling the comforting weight of Amberley's pendant around my neck.

"Merry Christmas, miss!" Lucy sang as she held up my robe for me. She looked in the best mood I'd seen her in weeks.

"Merry Christmas, Lucy," I replied, pulling her into a hug before repeating the gesture with Mary and Anne. They'd brought us enough mince pies to feed an army, and I insisted everyone sit and eat.

"We had an idea last night, miss," Mary spoke through a mouthful of pastry and spiced fruit.

I wiped hot chocolate from my top lip and asked, "What was it?"

"Well," she continued, "We remembered what you said about Lady Kriss giving Maxon cards, and we thought it might be a nice gesture to arrange a gift for you to give him."

I smiled, touched by their thoughtfulness, "That's a lovely idea. I was planning on just playing a song for him, but it would be nice to give him something material as well."

"We thought so too," Lucy replied with a mischievous grin, glancing up at the clock. As if by magic, there was a knock on the secret panel in the corner of the room, causing May and I to jump in our seats. The knowing smiles on my maids' faces reassured me it was nothing sinister, but I still watched warily as Mary went to answer the knock.

She eased the secret door open, and a familiar blonde head poked out, holding a basket piled with strawberry tarts.

"Marlee!" I shrieked, rushing over to embrace her. Mary intercepted the basket before I crushed it, and the two of us clung to one another, laughing hysterically. Eventually I pulled myself away, observing her from arm's length; her hair was tied up, and she wore the same uniform as Lucy, Mary and Anne.

"What's this all about?" I asked obliviously, causing her to roll her eyes.

"I'm your first Christmas present from Maxon, silly! We have to be a bit quiet about it, but he's arranged for me to be one of your maids from now on!"

My mouth fell open, "Are you serious?"

"Yep!" Marlee laughed, kissing both of my cheeks, "Merry Christmas!"

I still couldn't quite believe it, "But aren't members of the Selection only supposed to have three maids?"

Anne placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder, "Traditionally, yes, but Prince Maxon and the Queen have both cleared it. Besides, you'll be far more than a member of the Selection before too long!"

We all shared a laugh, and Mary presented me with the basket of strawberry tarts. They'd been stacked meticulously, and the basket had been wrapped with organza ribbon.

"Are you sure Maxon likes strawberry tarts?" I asked uncertainly. I knew they were my favourite, but I didn't want to assume everyone loved them as much as I did.

Lucy giggled, "Word is they've been his favourite ever since they won him his first date with you, miss."

I felt my cheeks redden, but I brushed it off, and insisted we began to get ready for the day ahead.

* * *

My maids had made me a red lace dress with long sleeves and a full skirt that fell to my knees, and once again they'd fashioned May a smaller version of the same design. She seemed to enjoy being my mini me, shadowing my life at the palace. They set our hair into curls, but did little else to style it, leaving it hanging loose down our backs.

"Do you miss mom and dad?" May asked nervously. I could tell she was trying to be grown up, hiding her homesickness, so I stroked her hair gently, trying to reassure her that there was no shame in missing home.

"Of course I do," I sighed, "And Gerad, and Kenna and Astra. I wish they could all be here too."

"Maybe next year?" she asked with an evil smile, and I flicked her nose playfully.

"We'll see, you monkey."

Christmas breakfast was a casual affair served in the lounge. We helped ourselves to bellinis, smoked salmon, scrambled eggs and selection of cheeses, then settled down around the room waiting for Maxon and his mother to arrive. May and I sat with Braelyn and Kemper, who were also dressed similarly to one another in emerald green gowns that made their mysterious eyes sparkle.

Braelyn and I clinked our glasses together and wished one another a merry Christmas. When I'd told Marlee about our blooming friendship she'd smiled mischievously and said, "Very cunning; keep your friends close, and your enemies closer!". I supposed to an outside observer it might look that way, but my friendship with Braelyn felt warm and genuine. In that moment, with the reassuring sensation of Amberley's locket against my chest, I found myself feeling hopeful that Braelyn and I would be able to remain close after the Selection had ended.

The lounge doors opened wide, and Maxon entered the room with his mother on his arm. Maxon wore a navy blue suit with a festive red handkerchief in his pocket, and Amberley a deep burgundy gown with demure ruched sleeves and a flowing taffeta skirt. I wondered if my maids had been aware of their outfits when they'd picked red dresses for May and I; I imagined that if you grouped the four of us together, we'd look like a little family unit.

"Merry Christmas, everyone!" Maxon announced after a maid handed him a bellini, and we all followed his lead, calling '_Merry Christmas!_' and raising our glasses in the air. His eyes picked me out of the crowd, and I could have sworn he winked in my direction. Beside me I saw Braelyn giggle and wave, and I began to blush furiously. Perhaps Maxon's wink had been for her.

When everyone had settled down, Maxon cleared his throat and spoke again, "I hope you're all enjoying your breakfast. There will be festive entertainment in the Great Room throughout the day, and dinner will be served at two. Later on in the afternoon, and I will be dishing out a few surprises for all of you."

Excited whispers echoed around the room, and I smiled to myself. Maxon had already given me the best Christmas surprise I could hope for - Marlee.

Maxon was the first to leave the room, and moments later May took my hand, attempting to pull me away.

"I left something in your room - will you come with me?" she asked sweetly, eyes wide and innocent.

"What is it?" I asked, but she simply shook her head indignantly, dragging me towards the door. I followed her, apologising to Braelyn for rushing off without an explanation. May was so eager, and I tripped over my heels as we rounded the lounge door, stumbling right into Maxon.

"Oh, Maxon, I'm sorry-" I began to mumble, until I realised that both he and May were in fits of giggles, "Wait a second, what's going on?"

Maxon was patting May on the shoulder, and she was beaming, "Well done, Agent May. Would you mind giving us a few minutes?"

"Of course not!" May sang, "Meet me back in your room in fifteen minutes, Ames!"

With that, she turned and hurried away to my room. Maxon wound his fingers through mine, and coaxed me in the opposite direction, whispering, "Come on, we haven't got long."

* * *

**maggiebswim - There are six girls left now; America, Kriss, Braelyn, Posie, Elena and Alyssa.**

**EileenAbbey - Thank you so much, that means a lot to me!**

**EileenAbbey - Plenty of Maxerica coming up in the next chapter :)  
**

**book-freak20 - That's so sweet, thank you so much!**

**prnamber3909 - Haha, we'll see!**

**Sarasmile247 - Sorry for teasing you all with that one, haha!**

**zeldafanatic0555 - Definitely a good sign ;)**

**d12t4eva - Right now I'm editing a few novel manuscripts, but I study Creative Writing and work as a freelance journalist.  
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**Glamourwisegirl - Thank you so much for reading!**

**bygrad - Thank you for your kind words :)**

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**DaughterofSea - Don't worry, plenty of Maxerica/action coming up!**

**PeetaOrMaxon - That's so lovely! I hope you're both enjoying it.**

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**Dhenn618 - Your reviews always make me smile ear to ear!**

**Guest mih - I'm not having a Christmas Ball I'm afraid. Do you mean the Winter Ball in chapters 10-12?  
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**gE - At the moment I've only been published in magazines, but I'm working on my novels :)  
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**Kaminator - Such high praise! Thank you.  
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	31. Taken

**Thank you _so_ much for the amazing response to yesterday's chapter! You guys are the best! To thank you for all of your lovely reviews, I found the time to write this chapter a day earlier than planned. I hope you all like it!**

* * *

Maxon was steering me through the corridors so enthusiastically that I had to stop and slip off my heels so that I could match his pace. It didn't take me long to realise that we were heading towards this bedroom, and I felt all-too-familiar butterflies begin to flutter in my stomach. Even if we did only have fifteen minutes, it was still fifteen minutes more than I'd expected to have alone with him that day.

His guards flashed me knowing smiles as we approached, and I wished them both a Merry Christmas before Maxon hurried me through the door.

"Will the staff get some time off today?" I asked, suddenly concerned that they wouldn't get to celebrate.

Maxon smiled softly, clearly charmed by my concern for the people in the palace who so often went unnoticed by the royals and their guests, "Don't worry, we have a very tactful rota in place. I believe the kitchens are serving three Christmas dinners over the course of the day so that they all get a chance to celebrate."

I relaxed a little, although part of me regretted not being able to celebrate with my maids. If I did win this thing, I intended to blur the strict formalities between the royal family and their staff.

"Speaking of staff," Maxon added, a playful smile flitting across his lips, "I trust your 'gift' got to you safely this morning?"

I grinned, throwing my arms around his neck, "She did, and it was absolutely perfect. I couldn't have hoped for anything more."

Maxon laughed at my enthusiasm, wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me clean off the floor for a moment, landing a chaste kiss on my lips, "I thought you might like it. Just be careful; we can't let any of the other Elite know that Marlee is still in the palace - there'd be hell to pay."

"Of course," I replied, knotting my fingers in the hair at the back of his neck and savouring our closeness, "Thank you so much."

He smirked, "Anything for you, darling."

It seemed Maxon hadn't brought me here to chat. When talk of Marlee ended, he tightened his hold around my waist and pressed his lips eagerly to mine. I could feel his heat through the fabric of our clothes, and the thrum of his heart getting progressively faster. As our kiss deepened, he steered me over to the edge of his bed, then broke away with a mischievous grin.

"What are you up to?" I breathed playfully, frustrated that he'd broken away from me.

He simply raised his eyebrows suggestively, and pointed up. I followed the gesture, and spotted a ball of mistletoe, heavy with white berries, hanging from the canopy of his bed.

"Do you recognise it, Miss Singer?" Maxon asked, his voice low.

I felt my cheeks flush with heat, "Mistletoe, your highness, if I'm not mistaken."

"Correct," he murmured, pressing his lips to my throat.

"Let me guess," I whispered, my breath catching as his lips moved to my collarbone, "You want us to honour the traditions of our ancestors?"

"Of course, Miss Singer," he breathed against my skin, causing the tiny hairs to stand on end, "And, with all due respect, it's a pretty big ball of mistletoe."

I giggled, but the sound was stolen from my lips as Maxon continued trailing kissing from the hollow of my throat across to my shoulder, pulling the neck of my dress aside exposing more skin. Before I could register the movement, his hand was on the small of my back, lowering me onto the bed. His lips met mine hungrily, and the sensation was electric. His fingers pressed longingly into my stomach and hips through the lace of my dress, and my hands betrayed me, pushing beneath the linen of his shirt, stroking the beautifully flawed skin of his back. At first he tensed when he felt my fingers playing across his scars, but it didn't take him long to relax into my caress. I adored him, I wanted to prove that to him more than anything.

Unfortunately, our moment of passion was stolen from us. Maxon's watch beeped, and his sighed regretfully into my hair, pulling us both to our feet.

"We should probably get back before anyone misses us."

"No," I moaned, pulling him close, "I don't care."

He laughed, and held me at arms length, pushing my curls back into place and readjusting the neckline of my dress, "Come on, Mer. Duty calls."

"Fine," I replied sulkily, but I returned the favour by smoothing his hair and tucking his shirt in. We shared a shaky laugh, and Maxon touched the chain of my pendant inquisitively.

"I meant to ask," he spoke gently, cocking his head to the side, "What's this? I haven't seen you wearing in before."

"Oh," I gasped, feeling strangely shy, "It was a gift from your mother."

He gently pulled the chain, retrieving the pendant from inside my dress. He held it thoughtfully in the palm of his hand, brushing his thumb over the cameo, "I remember her wearing this when I was younger."

He looked so thoughtful as he observed it, and I suddenly felt somewhat vulnerable. Would he know what it meant? Would he understand the gesture of faith his mother had made? Regardless of whether he did, it remained unspoken. With a nostalgic smile, he tucked the pendant back down my dress and took my hand, leading me back to the festivities.

* * *

After a long, lazy afternoon of wonderful food, resplendent gifts, and good company, May and I made our way back to my room arm in arm. Maxon and his mother had given her a trunk full of palace dresses to take home, knowing how fond she was of them, and Maxon had given me a beautiful violin, so ornate and pretty that I almost felt too nervous to play it. I'd presented him with the basket of strawberry tarts -it turned out I was the only member of the Elite who'd planned a present for him- and played a song on my new violin for him. There had been live music and games in the Great Room all day long, and everyone was retiring to bed exhausted and merry. Even the guards and maids looked a little dreamy.

However, as was typical of my life in the palace, the peaceful happiness simply couldn't last.

May and I stumbled into my bedroom to a sickeningly familiar sight; A group of rebels held my maids to the floor, their hands bound and their mouths stuffed with rags, and another group stood waiting for May and I. The moment we stepped inside, they barricaded the door behind us, and attempted to wrestle May from my arms.

"Please!" I begged, pushing her behind me, "Leave her out of this!"

I felt a strong hand strike my face, and my nostrils filled with warm blood. In a moment of foggy uncertainty, they managed to take May, and held her to the floor with my maids, pushing a filthy rag between her lips. Her eyes were wide with fearful panic.

I wiped the blood from my nose with the back of my hand, and tried to stand as tall I could. The same woman as last time approach me, a smug smile on her chapped lips.

"Tut tut, Lady America. I thought by now you'd have learned to be compliant. You know we don't want to hurt anyone, but any more stunts like that and your pretty little sister will pay for your mistakes - do I make myself clear?"

I glared at her, trying to ignore the blood pooling on my top lip, "Crystal."

She clapped her hands together in triumph, "Good! Now, we're simply here for a situation report. We'd quite hoped that Prince Maxon would have ended the Selection by now."

"We're getting there," I mumbled, balling my hands into fists by my sides.

"That as it may be, our patience is wearing thin."

I shrugged, dashing away the blood that was beginning to trickle down my chin, "What would you have me do?"

She pursed her lips, "That, I'm afraid, is up to you. You have until New Years Day, otherwise we'll be forced to take your lovely sister as insurance until you've secured the throne."

My stomach flipped in anger, and I took a step towards her, "Leave my sister out of this, or I swear to God-"

"Careful, Lady America," she interrupted, her tone stern. She nodded to the rebel holding May, and he dragged her upright, pressing a filthy blade to her throat. My blood went cold as I saw her eyes quiver with terror. Tears welled in my eyes, and my threats turned to sobs.

"Please," I begged, falling to my knees, "I'll do whatever I have to do, just don't hurt her."

The rebel relaxed the knife at May's throat, and I sighed in relief, the tears spilling freely down my cheeks. The woman stooped down to my height, and slowly said, "New Years Day, Lady America. The Prince must officially announce your engagement at his coronation, at very latest, otherwise we'll come for her."

With her final threat, she nodded in May's direction, and my whole body seized up in fear.

Just as the rebels began to leave, we heard a banging at the door. They tried to maintain their barricade, but it didn't take long for the guards to break through. I spotted Maxon in the crowd, but before I had a chance to feel any relief, a rough arm caught me around the throat, knocking the air from my lungs. I couldn't see the face of my captor, but I could smell his reeking breath and ripe body odour.

"Take one step closer and we'll break her neck!" The woman hissed, and Maxon ordered the guards to a standstill. They looked at a loss, and I felt my eyes begin to water as the arm tightened around my neck. My gaze darted between Maxon and May until my vision began to go black at the edges.

After a moment of fragile stillness, all hell broke loose. I saw the rebels holding May and my maids throw them aggressively towards the guards, distracting them for a moment whilst I was thrown over the man's shoulder and hurried towards the balcony doors. Despite my desperate situation, I saw Lucy fall hard on her stomach, and in that moment all of my concern was for her and her unborn child. My vision span as the man straddled the balcony railing, taking hold of a rope and being lowered to the ground.

A bag was thrown roughly over my head, and the world went black.

* * *

**ilona18 - I hope you liked the rebel action in today's chapter! **

**maggiebswim - Fingers crossed it all works out for them.**

**Basedonthosebooks - I'm sure well find out soon ;) Thank you!**

**Sarasmile247 - Sorry, I can't resist a good cliffhanger!**

**Karategirl537 - Thank you so much!**

**Cassandra - It's a lovely sunny day here, but I still found time to write this for you :)  
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**prnamber3909 - I'm glad you enjoyed it!  
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**WinteryRose - Wait and see! We're well over halfway through now.**

**Glamourwisegirl - America told Maxon, and Aspen is now guarding her family in Carolina.**

**Dan-Four-Lover - Hope i didn't leave you hanging too long ;)**

**kassoug4 - Thanks for reading!**

**Kaminator - That means a lot to me!  
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**thegirlwhosdivergencewasonfire - I'm not even entirely sure what's going to happen yet - sorry!**

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**Athenachild101 - That's so lovely, thank you!**

**magicdance12 - Yay, thank you!  
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**m7star - Neither can I! I'm making 70% of this up as I go along!**

**theselectionqueen - Your wish is my command!**

**zeldafanatic0555 - That's so sweet! I'm glad you're both enjoying it. Thank you!**

**DaughterofSea - Your guess was very close to what ended up happening! Thank you.**

**Connell101 - Thank you! She's one of my favourites, so I'm glad you think I've managed to portray her well!  
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**brothermother - Thank you. I really can't wait for The One to come out!  
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**heyheyheybay - Then it's your lucky day! ;) Haha, thank you.  
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**ShadowhunterWithABow - Thank you so much for reading!**

**tourquisestar - Thank you :)**

**Kaminator - I promise there will be an update on Aspen soon!  
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	32. The Warning

**Sorry for the cliffhanger in the last chapter! That was a bit cruel of me, but I wanted to get some excitement underway :) I think I've pretty much figured out how I'm going to wrap this story up now, but don't worry, there's still about 15 chapters left and I'm already planning on writing a sequel!  
**

**I hope you enjoy Chapter 32!**

* * *

We could have been running for five minutes, or it could have been an hour. My ribs were bruised from being repeatedly crushed against my captor's shoulder, my pulse was screaming in my ears, and my nostrils were full of congealing blood. Devoid of my sight or any sense of direction, I was completely disorientated. I couldn't bring myself to consider where they might be taking me, or what their purpose might be.

I was expecting to be thrown into a van or the back of a car, however when they finally put me down I had my back against a tree. My hands and feet were bound, and I was tied to the trunk of the tree with a coarse length of rope that bit cruelly into my bruised ribs. Finally, they removed the bag from my head, and I was greeted with the stench of my captor's breath.

"Hello again, little lady," he chuckled darkly, the moonlight just about highlighting his features, "Apologies for the change in plan, but your prince took us by surprise. Now, do you have any idea how he knew we were there?"

"I don't know," I choked, "Maxon calls on me from time to time. It was just a coincidence."

"A coincidence?" he echoed disbelievingly, "With that many guards? I think not."

I shrugged behind my bonds, "What else could it have been?"

He grinned sinisterly, revealing a mouthful of yellowing teeth, "We think you must have triggered some kind of alarm."

"What?" I gasped, my mouth falling open, "You all saw me from the moment I came into the room - when would I have had the chance to trigger an alarm?"

The rebel backed away, joining a group who were gathered a few yards away. They talked in hushed voices, stealing the odd glance in my direction. My throat was thick with tears, but I refused to show any more signs of weakness in their presence.

"Alright," the rebel finally announced, holding up his hands, "We believe you."

"Then let me go," I choked desperately, "I'm no use to you here."

The group of rebels all laughed, and I willed the tree to split open and swallow me whole. The woman pushed her way to the front of the group, a sheet of folded paper in her hands. She knelt down in front of me and tucked the paper down my dress.

"A message for your prince," she explained with a manipulative smile, "When he eventually finds you."

She backed away, and the rebels regrouped. After a few more minutes of discussion, they shouldered their bags and began to move away. Before she left, the woman fell into a quick curtsey and sang, "Always a pleasure, Lady America."

* * *

It was dark and cold, and I ached all over. My breathing felt laboured with my bruised ribs and nose full of blood, and as the hours passed my muscles began to cramp painfully. The night dragged on, and I eventually realised why the rebels had dragged me out here, only to leave me behind.

I wasn't a hostage, I was a warning - they _wanted_ Maxon to find me. They wanted to scare him.

It was the longest night of my life. I was so cold that my limbs convulsed and my teeth chattered, and despite how tired I was, I didn't allow myself to sleep. The woods rustled with life around me, and I didn't trust the darkness. Dawn eventually arrived, but brought with it no solace. _Surely the guards should have found me by now? _My body had fallen asleep, and I felt disconcertingly numb. My throat burned with dehydration, and I could feel blood crusting in a dark trail from my nose to my neck. I could taste it on my lips.

The sun climbed higher into the sky, and my stomach began to ache with hunger. My tongue felt dry as paper, and any hope I had of being found slipped through my fingers like sand.

_I'm going to die_, I thought to myself, _I could have helped the rebels, but they've left me to die instead._

It had all been for nothing. I would die, and Maxon would marry Kriss or Braelyn. They'd never be entirely happy, but they'd start a family and grow old together, and Illéa would never really change. The rebel attacks would get more frequent and viscous, and hundreds more guards would have to sacrifice their lives. May would be traumatised, and my family heartbroken. Lucy might have lost her baby, and I'd never get to resolve things with Aspen.

A gentle breeze moved through the green canopy above me, and I aimlessly watched the sun breaking and fragmenting between the leaves. It mesmerized me as my vision slipped in and out of focus. A couple of times I tried to fight the ropes holding me in place, to the point where I could feel them cutting into my skin, but it was no use; they'd slice me to the bone before I managed to break free, and I doubted I'd have the strength to find my way back to the palace even if I did find a way out.

A lifetime later, the sun began to dip in the sky again, and the woodland turned orange in the evening light. My stomach complained at the absence of food and water, and every inch of my body ached. I was so tired, and I wanted nothing more than to close my eyes, but I didn't trust myself to rest. If I let myself sleep, I was afraid I'd never wake up again.

The evening turned to night, and any lingering hope I had of rescue abandoned me. I closed my eyes, and allowed myself to slip away into the abyss.

* * *

I awoke to the familiar fog of medication. My eyes fluttered open, but my vision remained black and hazy for a few secondss.

I wondered for a moment if I was dead; if this was what death felt like.

"America?"

The fog began to clear at the sound of Amberley's voice. What was the Queen doing in the woods? I furrowed my brow in confusion, willing my sight to return to me.

"America, how do you feel?"

Slowly, my vision came back to me piece by piece. I was no longer tied to the tree, but in the infirmary instead. I was tucked beneath clean sheets with tubes in my nose and arms, and Amberley was sat in a chair beside me, her face a picture of motherly concern.

"You found me," I choked, too excited to show any real gratitude or relief.

Amberley nodded, and smoothed a cool hand across my forehead, "Yes, and just in time by the sound of it."

We sat in silence for a moment whilst Amberley allowed me to wake up properly. She helped me drink some water and sit up a little in bed. My body felt stiff, and beneath the haze of medication I could tell that I was injured. However, my injuries were the least of my concerns. My final night in the palace was slowly coming back to me, and there were a few people whose well-being I was far more concerned about than my own.

"Lucy," I managed to choke, "Is she alright? And my sister?"

"They're both fine, America," she sighed, folding her hands in her lap, "May sends her love, but had to return to Carolina yesterday. Lucy is under observation, but it seems that no real harm was done - to her or the child."

My blood went cold, "So... you know about the baby?"

Amberley frowned gently, "Yes, America, we do... When you've recovered there are a number of things Maxon and I need to discuss with you."

I furrowed my forehead again in confusion, and she tried to smooth away the worry lines with her fingers.

"You've fractured a number of your ribs," she explained in an attempt to change the subject, "You were passed out when they found you; your body had all but given up on you. Between the shock, exhaustion and dehydration, you did well to survive as long as you did."

My physical condition was the least of my concerns, "Your majesty, please, what is it that Maxon needs to discuss with me?"

Amberley sighed heavily, taking one of my hands between hers, "After the rebels managed to get into your room the first time, he had security cameras installed. He didn't tell you, since he knew that you never liked the idea of people watching you whilst you slept, and all of the footage was destroyed unless anything suspicious was caught. However, the footage we have of the night you were taken is... troubling."

My heart stilled in my chest. Maxon had wanted to be able to trust me, and after watching that footage he would know about me keeping the rebel's demands secret. He'd know I'd been hiding things from him.

_No wonder he isn't here himself_, I thought to myself pitifully, _he must be so angry_.

"Oh," I managed to breath weakly, "Is he alright?"

Her lips twisted uncertainly, "He's upset, and understandably so. If the rebels were making demands of you, you should have told us. We deal with things like this everyday - it's too much for one inexperienced seventeen year old to deal with on her own."

"I know," I sighed pitifully, "It was stupid of me, but I couldn't live with Maxon picking me because he _had_ to; I wanted him to pick me because he _wanted_ to."

Amberley's eyes softened, and she ran a careful hand down my cheek, "America, sweetie, that should be the least of your concerns. I wouldn't have given you that pendant unless I was confident that Maxon cared about you deeply."

My heart fluttered, and the two of us exchanged a small smile. Realising that I'd been under for a few days, I suddenly asked, "How is everyone else?"

"Well, we were all worried sick until you returned. Maxon led the search parties, so he's had to spend the past couple of days working solidly to make up time. He eliminated Elena and Posie the moment you were returned home safely, and Braelyn and your maids have been sitting with you when I've been resting or attending unavoidable meetings. I can't say I've seen much of Alyssa."

I nodded, taking everything in. Typically, I felt frustrated with Maxon for eliminating Elena and Posie before Alyssa, but more than anything I just wanted to see him and clear the air between us.

"When will I be able to see Maxon?" I asked tentatively, but Amberley simply smiled that small, knowing smile of hers.

"I'll let him know that you're awake, and I'm sure he'll be by soon."

* * *

**ilona18 - Hopefully this chapter clears up how Maxon knew about the rebels in her room!**

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	33. A Matter of Trust

**Happy Easter! Sorry for making you wait a whole two days for this chapter. I've finally ordered my copy of The One, and since it's due to arrive on May 15th I've made it my goal to wrap up this fanfiction by then - fingers crossed!**

**Hope you all enjoy Chapter 33...**

* * *

Despite Amberley's reassurance, Maxon took his time visiting me.

A day after I woke up, I asked the doctors if I could return to my room as I felt like I'd rest easier in my own bed, and they discharged me on the condition that I took my drip with me. Whilst I was steadily getting better, I still wasn't fully recovered. Braelyn had been visiting me every few hours, and when the time came for me to leave she insisted on helping my maids transfer me. Lucy was still under observation, and thankfully Braelyn either didn't recognise Marlee, or simply didn't question her presence.

"I am _so_ done with this," I moaned grumpily as they helped me into my bed, checking my drip was secure as they did so. My bad mood was partly caused by the fact that I'd had to stay in the infirmary yet again, but it was also due to Maxon's failure to visit me. I knew he was angry, but how was this helping matters?

"Would you like me to stay for a while?" Braelyn asked, perching on the side of my bed. Whilst I knew that her intentions were good, it was also safe to assume that the atmosphere in the Women's Room would be tense with just Kriss and Alyssa for company, and she was keen for a respite.

I mustered a grateful smile, "Thanks, but I'll be fine. I could probably do with some rest."

However, when Braelyn left, I didn't sleep. Instead I asked Anne to dig out the cards, and I sat playing with her, Mary and Marlee until the early hours. The time I'd spent unconscious had played with all of our sleep cycles, and none of us were ready for bed.

"Why do you think Alyssa is still here?" I asked completely out of the blue as Marlee shuffled the cards for a new game.

All three of them shrugged cluelessly, until Marlee let a sad laugh escape, "Who knows? Maybe it's another Celeste situation. Some girls put on a completely different face around men."

"Perhaps," I sighed, "But I thought he'd have learned his lesson with Celeste. I even warned him about Alyssa at the Winter Ball."

Mary patted my arm, "Don't fret over it, miss. Maybe it's all part of this 'game' the two of you have to play."

"Maybe," I murmured, although I was far from convinced.

There was a knock at the door, and Anne gathered the cards hurriedly, packing them away in her sewing basket. Mary went to answer, whilst Marlee ducked behind the secret panel in case it was anyone who wasn't supposed to see her.

Mary opened the door to reveal Maxon, still dressed in his suit despite how late it was. She dropped into a quick curtsy before both she and Anne excused themselves.

His eyes were dull, and he looked exhausted. When he moved over to my bed I shuffled across giving him room to sit beside me, but he only perched on the edge tentatively, maintaining some distance between us.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, not quite meeting my eyes.

"Better," I replied quietly, my heart faltering. I couldn't bear the tension between us.

"You should really be sleeping," he sighed, running a hand through his hair, "I was surprised when I saw the light under your door."

I shrugged, "My body clock is still a bit out of whack."

He nodded thoughtfully, "You gave me quite the scare, you know."

"You weren't the only one who was scared," I murmured.

He snapped his head around, finally meeting my eye, "You didn't have to be. You should have told me the moment the rebels began making demands of you. We could have avoided all of this."

I pressed my face into my hands, then pushed my hair away from my face, "You wouldn't have believed me."

His mouth fell open, and he stared at me incredulously, "Of course I would have believed you, America!"

"No," I groaned, staring down at my comforter, "You wouldn't have. Imagine how crazy it would have sounded if I'd suddenly come to you saying that I _had _to win the Selection because the rebels had said so. It would have sounded like a ploy I'd come with."

"Still, I would have believed you," Maxon insisted, "I trusted you."

"You can still trust me! Can't you just appreciate that I had my reasons for not telling you?"

"Not this time," he sighed, pressing his thumb and finger tiredly to the corners of his eyes, "By keeping secrets about the rebels you were endangering me, my mother, the other members of the Selection... You were toying with the lives of every person in the palace."

"I was trying to keep them safe!" I cried in frustration, "I was trying to be responsible."

"Well it was a stupid move, and it doesn't reflect well on your judgment."

I hated it when he spoke to me like that; like I was an irresponsible child, a burden. I pulled my knees to my chest and spoke in a quiet, defeated voice, "We all make mistakes."

Maxon frowned, "Yes, we do. That's why people in our position don't make decisions on their own. Why do you think we have so many advisers? It's because mistakes are so often made when we make decisions without proper consideration."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, the heavy tension hanging in the air like an unpleasant smell. I wanted to reach out to Maxon, to take his hand and kiss away our problems, but in my heart I knew that it would do no good. My mistakes were simply too heinous.

"Why didn't you tell me about your maid?" Maxon then asked, sounding wounded, "What did you think I would do? Throw her out on the streets of Angeles? Have you no faith in me America?"

I sighed, wanting nothing more than to curl up under my blankets and hide from the world, "I was going to tell you just as soon as I was more sure of my position."

Maxon groaned and roughly grabbed my hand, pointing to the promise ring on my finger_._

"_More sure of your position_?" he demanded, eyes wide, "I've done _everything_ I can to assure you of my affections for you; to make you feel like we're on the same team."

"We _are_ on the same team!" I choked, "But it's like I said before, I have to tread carefully until the Selection is over. I've been hurt enough these past few months, and as long as there are other girls in the palace, I'll have insecurities."

"Still," Maxon sighed, "You should have told me. She's pregnant - she needs proper medical care. Do you know who the father is?"

My stomach twisted uncomfortably, "Yes, I do."

"Well, who is it?"

I twisted my hands in my blanket uncertainly, "It's a guard."

His eyes darkened, "Which guard."

Taking a calming breath, I forced myself to look him in the eye, "Officer Leger."

Maxon's jaw tightened, his teeth mashing together in anger, "That boy is nothing but trouble. I should have him hung."

Despite myself, tears streamed down my face at the idea of Aspen being executed at Maxon's hand, "Please Maxon, it's complicated."

"Damn straight, it's complicated."

"Maybe this is a good thing," I pleaded, trying to make him see the positive, "I know Officer Leger, and I promise he will do the right thing and support Lucy and the baby. He won't come between us any more."

Maxon's eyebrows knitted together, "If you're suggesting that we bring him back to the palace-"

"Please," I interrupted, My tone desperate, "Lucy deserves to have him nearby. Regardless of whatever else he may be, he's the father of her child."

Once again, Maxon was running his fingers through his hair in frustration. Eventually he slumped forward, arms on his knees, looking defeated, "I suppose that the Selection has to end by my coronation anyway, so your family won't be needing guards in Carolina soon enough."

I leaned forward and took one of his hands gently, "Thank you."

He exhaled a long sigh. Despite the heated discussion, it felt good to get all of these things out in the open, and I could tell that Maxon was feeling a similar sense of relief. He moved over so he was sat a little closer to me, and managed a sad smile.

"I never wanted the Selection to end like this. I've always said that when I proposed I wanted you to have no doubts in your mind when you said 'yes'. I hate the rebels for creating this ticking clock."

I leaned my head carefully on his shoulder. At first he tensed a little, still wound up from our argument, but it didn't take him long to relax.

"Things have a strange way of working out," I whispered, and I heard him laugh lightly beside me.

"We can only hope."

I sighed, nestling closer to him in an attempt to thaw what remained of the tension, "I've lost track of time; how long is it until the coronation now?"

"Five days."

_Five days_. Five days and the Selection would finally be over. With the new threats the rebels had put in place, I had no doubts in my mind that Maxon would chose me, but I felt none of the sweet relief and delight that I'd expected to feel. I still wanted the romance; I wanted to know Maxon was picking me for _me_, not because someone was in danger. As stressful as all the uncertainty had been, the idea of a surprise proposal had also been exciting and romantic.

But it had been stolen from us.

"I'll be making the final elimination tomorrow," Maxon continued, playing absently with a lock of my hair, "Then I'll announce the winner at my coronation. All of your families will be invited to the palace, so you won't need to worry about your sister. We'll keep her safe."

"Thank you."

Eventually, I felt Maxon relax beside me. If nothing else, it was good to be wrapped in his arms again. As the events of the past week reeled through my mind, I remembered a question of my own.

"Maxon, the note the rebels left for you - what did it say?"

To my surprise, his face softened at mention of the note. I'd assumed it would be something unpleasant, however the small smile playing across his lips said otherwise. After a thoughtful moment he pressed a light kiss to my forehead and breathed, "It was a list of reasons why you'd make a wonderful queen."

* * *

True to his word, Maxon eliminated Alyssa first after breakfast the next morning. I didn't see her, but I could hear her shouting and throwing things in her bedroom a few corridors away. After everything that had happened over the past few days, her pettiness suddenly seemed so unimportant. We all had far bigger, more pressing concerns to deal with.

And, just like that, the Elite was down to the final three.

* * *

**ilona18 - Men can be so blind sometimes... at least he finally saw sense!**

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	34. Braelyn's Story

**Before I start, a quick thanks to kaylie2000 for reminding me to post more on my Instagram. Right now it's dedicated to photos that have inspired this fanfiction, so if you fancy a peek behind the scenes go take a look at 'floraquatica' - thank you!**

**A few of you asked about sequels, and I can confirm that I'm already planning one :)**

**Hope you enjoy Chapter 34...**

* * *

In preparation for Maxon's coronation, Kriss, Braelyn and I were subjected to a number of extra etiquette classes with Silvia over the following days. Now that we were down to the final three, our training had become more intensive. We all had one on one sessions with Silvia, and went through all of the basics of conversation, dining and posture time and time again. Kriss and I had an advantage over Braelyn since she'd joined later in the competition, but her natural grace and sharp wits worked in her favour, and she was a quick learner. Silvia sang her praises at every turn.

Whilst Kriss was being tested one afternoon, Braelyn and I sat in a corner, under strict instruction to practice our conversation. We'd come to that lesson straight from a morning of dance practice, and whilst I felt exhausted, Braelyn was glowing. She seemed brighter since Alyssa had been eliminated; being the last of the new Selected had done great things for her confidence.

She looked beautiful in her buttery yellow day dress, and once we were left alone, she leaned forward slightly with a knowing smile, "All of these extra lessons have got me wondering... Do you think Maxon will propose at the coronation?"

I felt my eyes widen. As far as I knew, I was the only member of the Elite who knew of Maxon's intention to announce the winner at his coronation, but perhaps I'd underestimated Braelyn's intuition.

"I suppose it would make sense," I replied weakly.

Braelyn frowned, "What's wrong? I thought you'd be excited."

I shook my head, forcing a small smile, "Nothing. Still a bit shaken up after the attack I suppose."

She reached out to touch my knee lightly, and I felt a small pang of guilt. Part of me still desperately hoped I would find a friend in Braelyn, but given how closed off I was being about everything, I doubted that was possible. Braelyn was one of the brightest people I knew; no doubt she could tell when I was hiding things from her.

"That was pretty crazy, wasn't it?" she sighed, the corner of her mouth twitching curiously, "I can't believe the rebels just took you like that; they must think you're pretty valuable."

My head snapped up, and I was met with a cool smirk. She patted my knee and laughed quietly, amused by some unspoken joke.

I cocked a cautious eyebrow, "What are you suggesting?"

"Only what we already know," she breathed, "That Maxon cares about you, deeply. I saw how panicked he was after they took you, and how stressed he was when you were in the infirmary. Men aren't very good at hiding their feelings."

"Doesn't that upset you?" I asked curiously. As far as I knew, Braelyn had her own feelings for Maxon, and I knew I'd have hated to watch him worrying about another girl.

However, Braelyn simply shrugged, "I've never had it in me to begrudge love. Sure I felt a bit jealous, and by no means am I giving up on him just yet, but that doesn't mean it wasn't heartwarming."

Just when I thought Braelyn had challenged all of my expectations, she went and broke even more of them down. Sure, she was secretive, but she was so _good_ and fair. Had I been an outside observer of the Selection, I would have wanted her to win.

* * *

My maids had me standing in front of my mirror, double checking my measurements and draping different and fabrics and trims over my shoulder. My arms and legs began to ache, but I could tell that they were all stressed, so I kept my complaints to myself.

"Two dresses, two bloody dresses..." Anne was muttering, "Knocking out one showstopper is hard enough, but two!"

I flashed a sympathetic smile. With the final Report of the year and the coronation fast approaching, everyone was working flat out to get everything ready. The recent excitement had set back progress on my dresses, and now we were rushing to make up time.

The fabric swatches for the coronation were all in shades of white. At first I was surprised that they were choosing to dress me in white again so soon after the Christmas Report, but Marlee explained that the decision had been out of their hands.

"It's at request of the Queen," she mumbled through a mouthful of pins, "She wants all three of the Elite in white."

I felt a chill run down my spine. Of course, I already knew of Maxon's intention to announce the winner of the Selection at his coronation, but this made it feel so much more real.

There was a gentle knock at the door, and Lucy hurried over to answer it. She'd finally been discharged, under strict instruction to go back for check ups every few days. Marlee excused herself, whilst Anne and Mary carefully folded the swathes of fabric and trim, packing them away. A moment later, Lucy led Braelyn inside.

She assessed the pins and tape measures strewn across my dressing table and said, "Dress fitting?"

"Something like that," I replied with a smile, brushing down the front of my dress, "What's up?"

Braelyn fidgeted her hands in front of her skirt, looking more uneasy than I'd ever seen her before. I excused my maids, and she lightly took my hand, guiding me out of the door and down the corridor, "There's something I feel I have to tell you, especially if this thing is going to end in the next few days."

"What is it?"

She shook her head as she pulled me along, "I can't tell you out here."

Eventually we arrived at her room, and she carefully closed the door behind her. We both sat at the foot of her bed, and she ran her fingers through her soft brown hair.

"Braelyn, what's going on? Why couldn't you just tell me in my room?"

She pointed up across the room, and I followed her finger. There was a handkerchief stuffed in the corner, although I didn't understand it's purpose.

"_Cameras_," she explained when she saw my perplexed expression, "They were installed after the rebels got into your room the first time. I know a security camera when I see one."

_Oh._

I knotted my fingers together nervously, "Okay, well what exactly is it that you couldn't tell me with cameras around?"

She kicked her feet against the carpet before replying, "I've been very careful when it comes to telling the whole truth about why I'm here."

"What do you mean?"

Braelyn took my hand, "America, before I tell you, you have to understand that motives can change with time - that they can change as you get to know people properly."

I nodded; this was something I already understood incredibly well. When I'd first joined the Selection I'd had no intention of falling for Maxon, yet here I was.

She sighed heavily, "I signed up because I wanted my family to have a better life, but when my name was drawn, things got more complex. There was a youth resistance group in my town; they never did anything extreme, but we'd meet up in secret from time to time and share our thoughts and ideas. I wasn't happy with the way my family lived, and there was a romance in being part of something that was fighting against it.

"When my name was drawn, a larger branch of the resistance found out that I was a member of the youth group, and they reached out to me."

My blood froze in my veins. Braelyn was in league with the rebels.

"It's not what you think," she spoke carefully, squeezing my hand, "I was a silly little idiot who thought she knew everything. They said that I could help change the country; that I could make things better for my family."

My eyes narrowed warily, "Braelyn, what have you done?"

She shook her head desperately, "Nothing! I haven't done anything yet! That's what I need you to understand. They told me to seduce him; to make sure that I won, or failing that, to make sure you won. They want a Queen from a lower caste, who understands the changes that need to be made. Once we were married, they wanted me to..."

Her voice faltered, and I could hear my pulse racing in my ears. I had a horrible feeling that I already knew what she was going to say next.

"They wanted me to kill him," she eventually choked out, having found her voice again, "They gave me a knife, and they said that if I was careful not to leave my fingerprints on the handle, then no one would question me. I never really understood how that part would work, but they assured me I'd be fine. They want to end the current royal bloodline, and make sure a better ruler is in power."

My head was swimming. I couldn't believe what she was telling me - I didn't want to believe it. Braelyn, the girl I'd wanted to see as a friend, the girl who I would have supported had I not been in the competition myself, had planned to kill the man I loved. I pulled myself up off the bed and backed away from her.

"America, please," she begged, standing up and approaching me, "You have to understand. The reason I'm telling you this is because I realised what a stupid, stupid idea it was. The rebels are assuming Maxon is exactly like his father, and I can see now that he isn't. Sure, there's merit to having a queen who understands the plight of the lower castes, but there's no need to get rid of Maxon."

I shook my head, "Wait a second, back up. You were supposed to kill him even if _I _ended up marrying him?"

Her lips tightened, and her eyes began to water, "Yes. I'm so sorry."

I wanted to hit her. I wanted to turn her in, and tell Maxon all about her wicked intentions, but I knew it would do no good. If the rebels found out, it would only rub salt in their wounds and make things worse for all of us.

"Everything I have ever said to you about wanting us to be friends is true," she sighed, keeping some distance between us, "And honestly, you're part of the reason I began to understand how harmless and kind Maxon really is. I care for him, America. I never expected to, but I truly do, and if he picks me then I will tell him everything that I've just told you. He deserves to know the truth... eventually."

I had to clasp a hand to my mouth to stop myself crying. Braelyn reached out to touch me, but I backed away from her. At my resistance, she sighed, and knelt down to retrieve something from under her bed. It was a polished wooden box, long and narrow, with some foreign engraving inlaid in the lid.

"Take this," she breathed, placing the box in my hands, "I can only hope it will prove to you that my intentions have truly changed. Hide it wherever you must to put your mind at ease, but I hope we can both overcome this and become friends again - regardless of whether it's one of us or Kriss who ends up with Maxon."

My throat was dry, but I managed a nod. Braelyn patted me sagely on the shoulder, and I excused myself. Hurrying back to my room as quickly as I could.

Falling down on my bed, I placed the box on the comforter in front of me and willed myself to lift the lid. My fingers shook as I undid the tiny gold clasp, and what waited inside tore a cry from my throat. Sure enough, on a bed of red velvet, lay a long slender dagger with an ornate handle. I couldn't stand to look at it for more than a few seconds before snapping the lid shut and stuffing the box under my bed. If I ever had to lay eyes on that thing again, it would be too soon.

Every word of Braelyn's story had been the truth.

* * *

**ilona18 - I can't wait to get Aspen back to the palace, it will definitely make things interesting!**

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**tourquisestar - I hope you liked his reaction!**

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**d12t4eva - I'm so glad you like my final three! I've definitely fallen for Braelyn.  
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**Basedonthosebooks - I'm definitely looking forward to writing the coronation!**

**kaylie2000 - Aspen is currently in Carolina. Thanks for reminding me about Instagram!  
**

**DaughterofSea - There's lots of America cuteness coming up soon, I promise!**

**Dhenn618 - The final three are America, Kriss and Braelyn :)**

**zeldafanatic0555 - We'll have to wait and see!**

**Athenachild101 - We may or may not see the list - we'll see ;)**

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	35. Reclaiming Freedoms

**Thank you so much for the reviews on my last chapter - a lot of mixed responses!**

**Also, thanks to everyone who followed me on Instagram :) It's 'floraquatica'.**

**Hope you all enjoy Chapter 35! Prepare for some Maxerica...**

* * *

"Lady America, how does it feel to have made the final three?"

"It feels wonderful, Gavril," I replied, an effortless smile firmly in place. The final Report of the year was always a special event, but since Maxon's coronation and the end of the Selection were imminent, this was a particularly important episode. Kriss, Braelyn and I were all being interviewed with Maxon, and I felt quite comfortable sat on the white loveseat with his arm curled around my waist.

"We've all heard about your numerous run-ins with the rebels over the past month; we can only hope that they haven't deterred you from the competition?" Gavril asked with a faint frown.

I shook my head, red curls bouncing around my face, "Not at all. Prince Maxon is worth it - I can't imagine my life without him."

Maxon squeezed me fondly around the waist and added, "Lady America certainly seems to attract trouble like a magnet, but her vivacious attitude is infectious, and I've no doubt she has a lot to offer this country."

I felt my cheeks flush, and I ducked my head into his shoulder for a moment before remembering we were on camera.

"Well!" Gavril concluded, clapping his hands together, "I for one can't wait to see what Lady America will bring to the table if she does win!"

"Neither can I, Gavril," Maxon agreed with a wide smile.

Gavril turned to me, his expression thoughtful, "Before we say goodbye, Lady America, may I ask how you're feeling about the upcoming proposal?"

"Nervous," I admitted, willing the flames in my cheeks to subside, "But excited. I know that whatever happens, Prince Maxon will make the right decision for Illéa. As much as I would love to spend my life by his side, Lady Kriss and Lady Braelyn would both make fair and gracious Queens."

I was ushered back to my seat, my sea foam green dress billowing around me as I went. Kriss was up next, and she held herself as regally as ever as she took her seat beside Maxon.

"Lady Kriss," Gavril began, "How does it feel to have made the final three?"

"Unbelievable," Kriss sighed, brushing her cascade of brown hair over her shoulder, "It's more than I ever dared to dream."

"Are you looking forward to Prince Maxon's coronation?"

She beamed, taking Maxon's hand loosely, "I truly can't wait. It will be an unforgettable day for all of us, and I know that Prince Maxon will make an incredible King."

"You're too kind, my dear," he chuckled, smiling proudly beside her. A fist clamped around my heart; I hated how much they looked like a couple in moments like that. Kriss was undoubtedly born to be a princess.

"Finally, Lady Kriss, how are you feeling about the upcoming proposal? How do you fancy your chances?"

Kriss looked thoughtful, "I think I've as much of a chance as anyone, Gavril. I care deeply for Prince Maxon, and -for the sake of our country- all I can do is hope that he makes the right decision. I want nothing more than his happiness."

Braelyn was the last up, and was a vision in forest green. She folded down gracefully into the seat beside Maxon, and whispered something briefly into his ear. His smile stretched from ear to ear, and the fist around my heart tightened. I rubbed my promise ring anxiously.

"Lady Braelyn, how does it feel to be in the final three?"

She shook her head disbelievingly, "Honestly, Gavril? I never expected to be here. Maxon had already developed relationships with the original Elite, and I didn't fancy my chances at all."

Gavril chuckled, "It was definitely an unexpected turn in proceedings! How does it feel to be the only member of the new Selected to have made it to the final three?"

"It's an honour," Braelyn gushed, bowing her head, "I've come to know Lady America and Lady Kriss fairly well over recent weeks, and they're both wonderful girls. To sit alongside them tonight is a privilege I don't deserve."

Maxon chuckled lightly, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, "Well, I wouldn't say that, my dear! Are you questioning my judgment?"

She flashed a charming smile that tickled her ears, "Not at all, your highness."

Gavril was grinning in his seat, positively squirming with delight, "How touching! Finally, Lady Braelyn, how do you feel about the upcoming proposal?"

"Anxious!" she laughed, placing a manicured hand on Maxon's knee, "I can barely sleep. It's such an exciting prospect, and I absolutely cannot wait to hear Prince Maxon's final decision."

* * *

My stomach churned as I got ready for bed that night, Braelyn and Kriss's interviews swimming around in my head. Maxon had caught my eye and tugged his ear soon after the interviews had ended, and I'd returned the gesture without thought. Usually I would have stayed in my evening gown until he visited, but I was still so tired from my run-in with the rebels, and I couldn't wait to get out of my heavy dress and into something more comfortable.

Since we knew Maxon would be stopping by, my maids had dressed me in one of my more modest yet elegant nightgowns; a peach silk number that tickled my knees, with a sheer robe shrugged on over the top. After removing the pins from my hair and washing off my makeup, they applied a faint layer of pearly powder and blush so that I'd still look glowing when Maxon arrived.

As soon as they were done fussing over me, I insisted they retired early. I knew they still had some way to go on my dress for the coronation, and they'd probably have to work a few more hours into the night before being able to justify sleep.

I was sat at the piano when Maxon slipped through the door, and he discovered me aimlessly tapping out tunes from my childhood. He placed a hand on my shoulder, and I stood up to greet him, wrapping my arms around around his waist and tilting my head against his chest.

"What's wrong, darling?" he asked quietly as he held me, stroking his fingers through my hair.

I shook my head, "Nothing. I'm just exhausted; physically and emotionally."

He scooped me up into his arms, and placed me on the bed, pulling the sheets up around me and climbing in beside me. He circled his arms around me and I clung to the front of his shirt like a desperate child.

"I've never seen you like this before, Mer," he breathed, placing a finger beneath my chin and tilting my head up to face him, "Tell me what's wrong - talk to me."

I squirmed free, nestling back into his chest.

"I'm just questioning everything," I sighed.

I felt him freeze up beside me, "Are you questioning us?"

I laughed, although there was no humour in the sound, "No... Well, yes, but not in the way you're thinking. I still can't convince myself that I'm right for you... That I'm right for Illéa."

Maxon's embrace tightened, and I heard him chuckle sadly, "You let me worry about that. You wouldn't still be here if you weren't right for me or the country - have some faith in my judgment."

"I've every faith in you," I whispered.

"Then you've nothing to worry about," he replied dropping a kiss onto the top of my head.

I wanted to tell him all about Braelyn, to tell him about the knife currently hidden a few feet away from us, to tell him that there was a branch of the resistance who may still want him dead, but I knew it would be unwise. Maxon had too much on his plate right now, and as long as no one was in immediate danger then the truth could afford to wait until after the coronation. If nothing else, I trusted that Braelyn no longer intended to hurt him, and that was enough.

"I have something for you," Maxon announced, slipping out from under the covers and moving across the room. When he'd first entered, he'd left a square white box on my dressing table, but I hadn't thought anything of it until now.

"What is it?"

He grinned wickedly, "All in good time."

"You're such a tease," I replied sticking out my tongue childishly, but I still pulled myself upright, anticipation pulsing through my veins as Maxon sat in front of me with the box in his hands.

"America, my darling," he began, knotting his fingers, "I can't begin to tell you how many times I've thought about the moment when I would finally ask you to be mine. Honestly, it's a notion I've envisioned from the night we first met. All my life I've been so cradled in the narrow world my father created for me, but then you came along and tore down the walls.

"'I've known for a while that I need you beside me. You inspire me, and drive me to make this country a better place. I want to be able to give you the proposal that's every bit as surprising and romantic as you deserve, and I'm not letting the rebels take that from us. You're only seventeen, and I've come to the decision that you're too young to get married right now. I've broken enough rules as it is, so I might as well break one more.

"I will announce you as the winner of the Selection and my future bride at my coronation, however I'm not giving them the wedding they want just yet. I will name you an acting princess and royal adviser to keep the rebels appeased, however our engagement and marriage belong to us, and I want us to have them in our own time. For now, I present this gift to you as my promise that you will one day stand beside me as my Queen."

Tears had been pooling in my eyes mere moments into Maxon's speech, however when he opened the box revealing a timelessly elegant tiara, the tears spilled freely down my cheeks. Of course Maxon had found a way to make everything right; despite the rebels trying to ruin things, he'd reclaimed some of our freedoms. We could only hope it would be enough to keep them happy.

I flung my arms around his neck, knocking the tiara and it's box aside. Maxon laughed, and held me tightly, his hands pressing longingly into my back. I found his ear and whispered, "You truly are perfect, do you know that?"

"One can never help being born into perfection," he sighed, his own voice thick with unspoken emotion.

* * *

**Athenachild101 - I'm glad you've fallen in love with Braelyn! I have too.**

**maggiebswim - Only time will tell! I promise to be kind... well, sort of ;)**

**DaughterofSea - Everything is definitely rolling around quickly now!**

**EileenAbbey - Thanks! I hope you're enjoying the drama.**

**Ellie Parker - It's definitely not an ideal situation! We'll have to wait and see.  
**

**lilythemermaid - It took my ages to decide whether or not to make her a rebel! Thanks sweetie.  
**

**tourquisestar - She changed her mind once she got to know him, but let's be fair - who wouldn't!**

**Karategirl537 - I won't make any promises, but I'll definitely try to!**

**Maxon's Rose - I won't give anything away. You'll have to wait and see!  
**

**kaylie2000 - Thank you so much! My copy of The One is due to arrive on May 15th, so I want to finish by then.**

**prnamber3909 - She's always been a bit of a dark horse!**

**d12t4eva - Don't worry, the Maxerica lull is over :) Plenty of Maxerica to come.**

**Basedonthosebooks - Thank you! Hopefully this chapter cleared things up, but Braelyn was dealing with a smaller branch of rebels :)**

**Katharina1999 - Don't be too sad! There's a sequel in the works.**

**Queen Zeena - Thank you so much! I'm glad you're enjoying it.**

**AlytheAmazinglyAwkward - You'll have to wait and see! ;)**

**zeldafanatic0555 - Not at all! I definitely like her more than Kriss.**

**Dhenn618 - Thank you so much! Aspen will came back after the coronation and we'll get some Lucy/Aspen :)**

**coweatsicecream - Haha, thank you so much for reading!**

**Extremebookworm12 - What a lovely compliment - thank you!**

**winterprincess - So she says! We'll have to see how things pan out...  
**

**Lara - It was only a matter of time! Thank you :)  
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**Kaminator - We should just call Braelyn 'The Confuser' and be done with it ;)  
**

**Glamourwisegirl - Only time will tell!**


	36. The Discovery

**Not long until the coronation now! Hope you all enjoy Chapter 36...**

* * *

With the coronation imminent, the doctors had insisted I started taking naps during the day to ensure I was fully recovered by the time the big day came around. Every day after lunch my maids would tuck me up in bed, help me take some mild sedatives, and draw the curtains tightly for a few hours. I hated how groggy and disorientated I would feel when I would wake up around mid afternoon, but I wanted to make sure I was able to enjoy Maxon's coronation properly.

Two days before the coronation, I woke up from my afternoon nap and blinked the sleep out of my eyes. For once I'd woken up by myself, without my maids having to stop by and shake me gently by the shoulder. I took it as a sign that my body had almost recovered.

Enjoying the moment of sleepy peace, I pulled on a long silk robe over my lounge clothes and poured myself a glass of water from the decanter on my nightstand. The curtains were swaying in a cool breeze, so I pushed them aside, stepping out onto the balcony. Leaning against the railings, I slowly sipped my water and gave myself a chance to wake up. The gardens had an eerie beauty in mid-winter; the trees were skeletal and the flowerbeds barren, but the evergreens and hedges stood tall, and the stark light gave the innumerable shades of green new life.

I heard a familiar giggle, and the water in my mouth turned acidic. Sure enough, Kriss turned a corner and came into sight, arm looped through Maxon's. She was dressed in a pretty powder blue coat, her hair in a curly ponytail beneath a white fur hat. Maxon looked somewhat dreamy as they walked and chatted, and I tried desperately to read him from afar. I hated it whenever I saw him in the gardens with anyone else - it was supposed to be _our_ place.

I couldn't hear what they were saying, and for that I didn't know whether to feel grateful or frustrated. I knew I'd gain nothing from watching them, yet I couldn't tear my eyes away. As they passed by, Maxon's gaze swept up to my balcony, and his eyes widened when they set upon me. Managing a small smile, I reached up to tug my ear, and Maxon repeated the gesture with a smile of his own.

Sensing Maxon's distraction, Kriss turned her head to follow his gaze. When she saw me on my balcony her eyes narrowed and darkened. My stomach twisted, and I hastily turned back into my bedroom.

* * *

I spent the rest of my afternoon in the Women's Room, taking solace in Braelyn's company. Now that I was almost entirely sure of my position with Maxon, and I knew the whole truth behind her story, I was more willing to build on our friendship. The fact that she'd once intended to kill him still made me feel uneasy, but I could tell by the gleam in her eyes when she spoke his name that she really did have feelings for him, and whilst that hurt, it was certainly preferable to his life being in danger.

"Getting excited?" she asked as one of her maids served us a tray of tea. She seemed a little more reserved since telling me her story, but the more time we spent together, the more she relaxed she became in my company.

"Yes, although imagine what an anticlimax it would be if he didn't propose?" I replied, dutifully playing my role - no one could know that Maxon had already _kind of _proposed to me.

"We'd certainly feel a bit silly wouldn't we?"

I shrugged, "It's only the three of us now - if it doesn't happen at the coronation, it will happen over the next week or so."

"I don't think I'll be able to handle it if he drags it out any longer!" she laughed lightly, "And judging by the way Kriss has been behaving recently, she won't be able to either."

I cocked an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

"You haven't noticed?" Braelyn asked with a smirk, "That girl is wound up like a spring. She's radiating tension - I can sense it a mile off."

"Oh," I replied weakly. I'd been so wrapped up in the two boxes hidden under my bed -one containing a tiara, and another the dagger intended to take Maxon's life- that I hadn't been paying much attention to Kriss. Braelyn, however, didn't miss a trick.

"I've tried to get her to talk about it," Braelyn admitted, stirring lemon juice into her tea, "But that girl is a closed book. She's bottling it all up, and God knows how she'll react when he doesn't choose her."

"_When_?" I asked, eyes wide with surprise, "Don't you mean_ if_?"

Braelyn raised an eyebrow, "Come on, America. Any idiot can tell that you have more chemistry with Maxon than she does, and why would he have bothered to develop a relationship with me if he already had two girls he truly wanted to be with? I don't want to jinx things, but if I was an outside observer I'd bet on one of us."

I took a while to digest her words. Whilst I knew that on some level she was right, and Maxon wouldn't be proposing to Kriss, her confidence and self-assurance were intimidating and admirable. It was childish of me, but for some reason I still saw her as competition.

* * *

I sauntered back to my room to get ready for dinner, silently turning my thoughts over and over in my head, considering them from every angle. Braelyn had given me plenty to think about, as she always tended to do. I was pulled from my thoughts as I approached my door and heard footsteps and rustling inside. They were unfamiliar; more frenzied than the usual comforting sound of my maids padding to and fro. Pressing my back to the wall alongside the door, I listened intently.

"I knew it!"

The gasp was breathy, but I recognised it immediately - Kriss.

I mustered all of my confidence, and strode inside to discover my room completely upturned. The drawers of my dressing table were hanging out, their contents scattered across the floor. My pillows and throws were all strewn from my bed, and Kriss was on her knees, rooting around beneath it. The white box was open beside her, the beautiful tiara sparkling in her hands.

"What do you think you're doing?" I asked cooly as her eyes widened in panic.

She took a moment to compose herself before holding up the tiara and hissing, "You stole this, didn't you?"

A dry laugh escaped my throat, "What? No, I didn't steal it - it was a gift."

"From who?" she asked, her voice low and dangerous.

I raised my eyebrows sarcastically, folding my arms across my chest, "Who do you think?"

Her fingers curled around the tiara, and I could have sworn she'd have snapped it clean in half if she had the strength.

"He wouldn't do that," she purred darkly, "He wouldn't propose to you."

"Maybe you don't know him as well as you think you do."

Her jaw tensed, and she shoved the tiara roughly back in it's box, "You think you've won this thing, don't you? Well, you should know that you're not the only one he loves."

"If you're so sure of that then what are you doing in here?" I tested, and she lowered her eyes guiltily.

"We all know he's going to propose at the coronation, especially now that the Queen wants us all dressed in white, but I know Maxon well enough to know that he'd propose in private first. I thought he might ask me today in the gardens, but he seemed distracted, and then I saw him looking up at your balcony..."

My gaze softened a little, but I was still angry, "Still, you have no right to be in here rooting through my things."

"I had to know where I stood," she sighed pitifully, "I've already told you I love him, America. I've trusted him with my heart, and I need to know if he's planning on breaking it."

I shook my head despairingly, "Kriss, you knew you weren't the only girl in his life - why would you put your heart on the line like that?"

"Because I'm in love," she whispered, "And love makes you do stupid things."

We remained silent for a moment. As much as I wanted to hate her for destroying my room and rooting through my belongings, I couldn't deny that love was a cruel yet beautiful thing, and it made you do things that you'd never dream of doing with a sober mind.

Silently, I stooped down to start putting my things back in their rightful place, starting with the tiara. To her credit, Kriss helped me, reassembling my bed. When she stooped to pick up a pillow that had landed beneath it, she faltered, reaching out to grab something.

When she stood up, she had Braelyn's box in her hands, and all of the blood drained from my face. One look at my petrified expression and Kriss knew she'd stumbled across something important. Before I could intervene, her fingers were on the clasp.

"Kriss, please-" I began, but the box was open before I could finish my plee. She took a few seconds to observe the dagger before she raised her eyes to mine.

"America," she began, her tone soft yet loaded with quiet accusation, "What's this?"

My shoulders dropped pathetically as I searched for some kind of excuse, but nothing came to me. In the end I simply said, "It's complicated. Please forget about it."

A dark smile flirted across her lips as she closed the box and tucked it under her arm.

"I'm sorry, America, but I think Maxon deserves to see this."

* * *

**Basedonthosebooks - I seriously hope they prevail in the actual The One!**

**m7star - Thanks for pointing that out! It's been rectified :)**

**tourquisestar ****- Thank you so much!**

**Karategirl537 - Yay! I'm so glad you liked it.**

**kaylie2000 - Your feelings were right!**

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**EileenAbbey - Yay!**

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**Queen Zeena - Same here, I just love them!**

**ShadowhunterWithABow - I'll tell you a secret... Researching the dresses is one of my favourite parts!**

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**lizzy sundstrom - I have, but since I'm in the UK it won't arrive until the 14th - Boo! ):**

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**Kaminator - That's so sweet. Thank you!  
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	37. Slow Burning Flames

**Blimey! My last chapter received a whopping total of 34 reviews in one day! You guys are the bees knees. Thank you _so so_ much!**

**I'm away on a modeling job over the next couple of days, but I'll try my best to update from my iPad :)  
**

**Hope you all enjoy Chapter 37 - I made it a bit longer than the last few!**

* * *

The dagger lay in it's box on the edge of Maxon's desk, and the office was drenched with uncomfortable silence. Kriss and I sat next to one another, and I had to clasp my hands in my lap to stop them from shaking. Maxon stood behind his desk with his hands flat on the polished wood surface, his hair messy and his eyes hard, whilst the head of security -a broad man called Ramsey- paced back and forth contemplatively.

"Lady Kriss," Ramsey began, coming to a halt in front of us with his hands behind his back, "You say you found the knife hidden in Lady America's bedroom - is that correct?"

"Yes," Kriss replied with a certain nod, "It was under her bed."

"May I ask what you were doing in Lady America's room, miss?"

Her eyes widened, "Is that really important given the circumstances?"

Apparently this was a valid question, as Ramsey didn't press the matter. I could feel sweat beading on my chest as I tried to catch Maxon's eye, but he was doing everything in his power to avoid meeting my gaze.

Ramsey turned his attention to me, "Lady America, were you aware of the weapon concealed in your bedroom?"

I forced the words from my dry throat, "Yes, but-"

"May I inquire as to it's purpose?"

I could feel my heart pulsing in my temples, "It had no 'purpose' - someone gave it to me."

Ramsey pursed his lips, "Lady America, you must appreciate how suspicious the situation seems."

"I do," I sighed, willing Maxon to look my way, "But I can explain. I just need five minutes alone with Prince Maxon."

Maxon glanced up at me momentarily, but Ramsey frowned and shook his head, "Given the circumstances, I cannot allow you to be alone with the prince, miss."

I felt my face fall, however I wasn't giving up, "That's understandable. Perhaps it would be possible for the three of us to talk alone?"

He nodded gruffly, "A reasonable request. Lady Kriss, if you'll come with me, I'll have a guard escort you back to your room."

Kriss's lips popped open to argue, however Ramsey was an impatient man, and he gently yet firmly removed her from the room. Without her smug presence, I managed to relax a little. I could handle this.

"America, will you _please_ tell me what this is all about?" Maxon asked desperately from behind his desk, his forehead ridged with frown lines.

"As I said, I was given the knife, but I'm afraid the story behind it is not mine to tell. Braelyn gave it to me earlier this week," I explained as cooly as I could, silently praying that Maxon would understand.

"Why did Lady Braelyn give it to you?" Ramsey asked, but I simply shook my head in response.

"I'm sorry," I sighed, "But Braelyn is my friend. She assured me she intended to tell Price Maxon herself... In her own time."

Ramsey knelt down and placed a large hand on the arm of my chair, invading my personal space, "Lady America, you don't seem to appreciate the gravity of the matter."

I tried to keep my gaze as firm and steady as I could, "Sir, I assure you I do, and if anyone in the palace were in any danger I would tell you immediately. As it is, I think Lady Braelyn deserves a chance to tell you the story herself."

His eyes narrowed, "If you insist, Lady America."

He stood upright, and pressed a button on the chunky watch secured around his wrist. Raising it to his lips, he barked, "Two guards to the Prince's office."

Maxon suddenly snapped to attention, stepping out around the desk, "Excuse me, Ramsey, but what exactly are you doing?"

Ramsey straightened himself up, looking authoritative yet respectful in Maxon's presence, "Your highness, this woman must be moved to a secure unit until we've got to the bottom of this."

My mouth fell open, and Maxon's fell in unison. We exchanged a look, however to my dismay Maxon did nothing to argue my case.

"Only until we've cleared this up with Lady Braelyn?" Maxon confirmed, and I had to resist the urge to stand up and scream - _Maxon was letting them lock me up?_

Ramsey bowed deeply, "Of course, your highness. We won't keep her any longer than necessary."

* * *

The 'secure unit' was like a downsized version of my bedroom. It was about twice the size of my room at home, with a Queen size bed, a modest desk, and a small bathroom adjacent. Despite the large mirror that I knew was almost certainly made of one-way glass, I was grateful that it didn't feel like a prison cell. There was even thick carpet and a few paintings on the walls. It dawned on me that this must have been where Clarkson was kept until he was sent to an outlying province. The scars on my back prickled, and I suddenly found myself praying that I wouldn't have reason to sleep in the bed.

As soon as I was alone I tried the handle on the door. It was locked.

I sighed and collapsed into the desk chair, running my fingers along the grain of the wood. There was no company, no books, no instruments; nothing to do but sit and contemplate my sorry situation. I couldn't help but imagine Maxon searching my room that very moment, reclaiming the tiara and placing it in Kriss's eager hands.

_No_, I told myself, _he's better than that - he trusts you_.

Trust. There it was, that word again. Just when I thought we'd figured everything out, something new came along and tested us. I should have told Maxon all about Braelyn and the knife; betraying her was preferable to losing Maxon forever...

Or was it? Despite the less-than-ideal circumstances, she was my friend, and I knew that if I turned her in after she'd confided in me then I'd never be able to forgive myself.

Kriss really had stumbled upon the jackpot. If ever there was a sound reason for Maxon to get rid of me, this was it.

A rebellious tear crept from the corner of my eye, but I dashed it away with the palm of my hand. If I was being watched right now, I had to look strong.

I heard the soft sound of numerous locks clicking in the door, and it swung open to reveal Marlee holding a tray of food. She placed it down on the desk, then gathered me into her arms, whispering fervently in my ear, "I know it's probably wrong for a Lady and her maid to hug, but I don't care. As soon as I heard what that wretched Kriss did I knew I had to see you."

"So you don't think I wanted to kill Maxon?" I choked quietly into her blonde curls, and I felt her body convulse with sad laughter.

"Of course I don't! They'll come to their senses soon and you'll be out of here in no time."

Dinner wasn't quite as grand as the ones I'd become accustomed to, but it was still sizable in comparison to the ones I'd eaten as a Five, so I ate without complaint. The warm food was a small comfort to my writhing stomach.

Marlee collected my empty tray with a sympathetic smile, then I was alone again with nothing but pens and paper for company. The hours dragged by, and whilst I imagined it must have been getting late, I refused to sleep in that bed. Instead, I sat at the desk writing, piecing together lyrics and streams of consciousness. It had been a while since I'd written a song of my own, and the bout of creativity was as good a distraction as any. I wrote until my fingers were pink and aching, and my eyes felt gritty with sleep.

* * *

A gentle hand on my shoulder woke me up. I must have been asleep for some time, as my teeth felt fluffy and my muscles all ached from being cramped over the desk for so long. I blinked away the sleep and turned to see who had woken me.

"I'm so sorry, America," Braelyn gasped, dropping to her knees and pulling me into her arms. She was still wearing the same dress she'd worn in the Women's Room the last time I'd seen her, and she looked a little frazzled around the edges.

"What's going on?" I asked, still half asleep.

"I spent all night in Maxon's office explaining everything, trying to clear both of our names," she explained, remaining on her knees beside me, "I came to you as soon as they would let me."

I glanced around, remembering where I was, "Did you have any luck?"

One corner of her mouth pulled up into a tired smile, "Yes. I gave them all the information on the rebels I could remember, and I think I've got them on side. You're free to go, although Maxon still seems a little... off."

"I'm not surprised," I sighed, pressing my fingers to my weary eyes, "Trust is kind of his _thing_. I'm so sorry, Braelyn. I should have hidden it better - Kriss should never had found it."

She shrugged off my apology, shaking her head, "Don't apologise. It was wrong of me to get you involved - it was inevitable that something like this would happen. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise. I can't imagine how guilty I'd have felt if I won without telling him first. It was an albatross around my neck."

I didn't know what to say. More than anything, I wanted to see Maxon. To make sure things were alright between us.

"Come on," Braelyn sighed, coaxing me out of the chair, "Let's go get cleaned up for breakfast. If we're going to have to face Kriss, we might as well make sure we damn incredible doing it - that girl needs putting in her place."

* * *

Breakfast was awkward, not only because of the tension between Kriss and Braelyn and I, but because we all knew in our hearts that it was the last breakfast of the Selection. Our families would be arriving throughout the day, along with scores of dignitaries who would be attending the coronation, meaning breakfast tomorrow would be a completely different affair.

It appeared Amberley was the only one who'd slept well that night. Maxon's eyes were ringed with purple, and Kriss, Braelyn and I all looked a little pasty and tired. Amberley encouraged us all to eat our fill, reminding us we had 'a big couple of days ahead of us', however none of us ate much. Braelyn and I felt very much like a team, exchanging quietly toxic looks with Kriss. Someone had explained the situation to her, and she looked incredibly annoyed that both Braelyn and I were still in the competition.

After breakfast I stole a few hours to myself, hiding in my bedroom. Part of me hoped that Maxon would visit me, but he didn't. I supposed it was naive of me to assume he'd have time for me with new guests arriving every half hour. It was likely that the next time we spoke properly, The Selection would at long last be over.

I knelt down by my bed, and fished the white box from underneath. Despite my nightmares, Maxon hadn't taken it back in my absence, and I took that as a good sign. Perching in front of my full length mirror, I placed it tentatively on top of my head. The diamonds and elegant twists of white gold reflected the red of my hair and shone like slow burning flames. My heart slowed as I observed myself, dressed in my palace finery, in my decadent bedroom, with this beautiful piece of history perched atop my head. I imagined myself stood by Maxon's side, and the slow burning flames in the tiara moved through my body, warming me until I positively glowed.

There was a knock on my door, and I hurriedly packed the tiara away, placing the box in pride of place on my dressing table. There was no sense in hiding it anymore.

* * *

**tourquisestar ****- Thank you so much!**

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**

**AlytheAmazinglyAwkward - She's a trouble maker that one!**

**Mikaella2307 - I'm so glad you're enjoying it, and thanks for the suggestion!**

**Maxon's Rose - Aww, don't be too harsh on little old Braelyn ;)  
**

**d12t4eva - Eep, I hope you didn't die! Hopefully this chapter was a little kinder on your heart.  
**

**CrazySkaterGirl17 ****- You guessed right about Braelyn supporting America! She's a good egg.**

**Dhenn618 - That's genuinely so lovely of you to say, but nothing will ever compare to Kiera Cass's work!**

**Abbie loves reading - I hope your heart has recovered!**

**m7star - Sorry for putting you through that!**

**Karategirl537 - It may all pan out alright, we'll have to wait and see :)**

**kaylie2000 - I'm glad you're warming up to Braelyn - I love that girl!**

**Athenachild101 - Your guess about what would happen was pretty on-point!**

**Rustygirl19 - Thank you! I must admit, I do love living in the UK :)**

**ilona18 - Of course Braelyn stuck up for America! I couldn't have it any other way.**

**Queen Zeena - I hope it wasn't too predictable!**

**winterprincess - You're not just being optimistic, you're also being logical! ;)  
**

**Maxerica shipper - I guess you better get hunting then!  
**

**zeldafanatic0555 - Nah, Kriss deserves a bit of hate right now. She needs putting in her place!**

**theselectionqueen - Haha, I love a bit of drama!**

**WinteryRose - I'm glad you didn't find it too predictable :)**

**coweatsicecream - I hope this chapter helped put you a little more at ease!**

**Katharina1999 - We'll have to wait and see his honest reaction!**

**lizzy sundstrom ****- The King has already been exiled to an outlying province for caning America :)**

**Dan-Four-Lover - Haha, apologies!**

**Swimchick - Sorry I couldn't update earlier! I literally write these chapters as soon as I get the time to!  
**

**MaxonIsMine - Braelyn isn't all that bad, I promise!  
**

**Guest - I'll start the sequel as soon at this story is finished :)  
**

**Taltals - That's so lovely! I'm glad it's tiding you over until The One comes out.  
**


	38. Family

**Yay! I managed to write today :) I wrote this on my iPad whilst on the train, so apologies for any typos. Enjoy!**

* * *

I went to answer the door, and my family flooded into my bedroom. This time Gerad, Kenna, James and Astra were also joining us, and they all made themselves at home, sitting on my bed and sofa, squeezing up like we used to do in front of the television for the Report every week. May was dressed in one of the palace dresses Maxon and Amberley had given her for Christmas -a pretty pink number- but everyone else was still in their normal clothes, and looked charmingly out of place amongst the palace grandeur.

"They wanted to take us straight to our rooms," Kenna explained as she placed Astra in my arms, "But we insisted on visiting you first!"

After I'd had five minutes cuddling Astra, my parents folded their arms around me in a tight group hug. My dad kissed the top of my head and said, "May told us what happened with the rebels, Kitten. I'm so sorry."

I shook my head and laughed, "There's no need to be sorry, dad!"

"Of course there is," he sighed, "It's our job to look after you. We shouldn't have let you come back here. Did they hurt you?"

"Yes," I breathed reluctantly, "But I'm fine now."

"Still," he murmured, "I don't like you being here."

I placed a comforting hand on his arm, flashing a warm smile, "Well, you might have to get used to it."

My mother's ears pricked, "What do you mean?"

I bit my lip and glanced around to make sure the door was tightly shut. Moving to the dressing table, I gathered the white box into my arms and passed it to her, fingers trembling in anticipation.

"I don't see any harm in you knowing," I giggled, "Maxon gave it to me. Go on, open it!"

She lifted the lid, and upon seeing the tiara clapped a hand to her mouth, hugging the box eagerly to her chest. The rest of the family craned curiously for a look at what was inside.

"America!" She gasped, happy tears pooling in her eyes, "Does this mean..."

"Yes!" I interrupted with a burst of happy laughter, "He says he's going to announce me as the winner at the coronation."

"I'd hoped as much!" She sobbed, passing the box to my father and hugging me tightly, "Oh, America! It's beautiful. I'm so proud of you."

My dad cradled the tiara in his paint stained hands, and the rest of the family stared at it in awe. May began bouncing on my bed shouting, "Yes! Yes! Yes! I knew it!"

Kenna and mom were both in floods of tears, whilst everyone else beamed. I was hugged, congratulated, and patted on the back. The atmosphere was jubilant, but whilst I was overjoyed to see my family so happy, I wished I knew where Maxon and I stood so that I could fully enjoy the moment.

May snatched the tiara from my dad's hands and raced over the the mirror, jamming it on her head.

"You're so lucky, Ames! I want one!" she crooned, touching her fingers to the diamonds in her red hair.

My mother refused to let go of my hand. She kept pushing my hair behind my ears and sighing, "My baby is going to be a princess!"

"Eventually," I corrected, causing them all to stare at me questioningly, "Maxon says I'm too young to get married right now, so for the time being I'll just be living in the palace and working as an advisor and 'acting princess'."

May and mom pouted with mock disappointed, however my dad smiled with satisfaction, "He's a sensible man."

I nodded in agreement, "Yes, he is. He wants us to take our time."

My mother shrugged away her slight disappointment at the news that I wouldn't be getting married anytime soon, and said, "Oh well! The important thing is that you've won!"

I laughed giddily, but then remembered something important, "Just remember, you're not supposed to know about this until he announces it at the coronation tomorrow - we can celebrate properly afterwards!"

* * *

That night Amberley was hosting a quiet reception to welcome all of the palace guests. My mother, May, and Kenna were all getting ready with me in my room, with Astra lying on the bed, kicking her plump little legs in the air. Lucy was fussing with her, her maternal instincts well and truly kicking in.

"How far along are you, Lucy?" Kenna asked as she looked through my collection of loaned palace jewellery, weighing weighty necklaces and earrings in her hands.

"A little under two months," Luck giggled, catching one of Astra's feet and flashing a wide smile.

"I can't believe Aspen is going to be a father," my mother sighed, raking her fingers through her freshly curled hair, "He's always been such a good boy. I'm sure he can't wait to get back here to be with you. It will certainly be the lift his mother needs after Celia..."

Her voice trailed off, and my head snapped around on my neck, eyes wide with concern, "What?"

My mother shook her head, "Celia didn't pull through, the poor thing. At least she's not suffering anymore."

I bit my lip and hastily excused myself, going to hide in the bathroom. I stuffed my knuckles in my mouth and bit down on them to stop myself crying. At first I wondered why no one had let me know about Celia passing away, but then I realised that Aspen and I weren't supposed to have a relationship, and whilst his sister's death was tragic, it shouldn't have been any of my concern. I perched on the edge of the bath, regulating my breathing and willing myself to calm down. When I felt a little steadier, I moved over to the sink and splashed some cold water on my face. I still looked green.

Aspen had lost his sister, and I hadn't been there to comfort him. Despite everything that had happened between us, I felt I should be there. I should be by his side, comforting him and helping him in every way I could.

Instead I was at the palace, being perfumed and pampered whilst Aspen mourned his loss back in Carolina. The thought made me feel sick.

I composed myself as much as I could, and returned to my room. Marlee caught me by the elbow before I could get too far, and quietly asked, "Are you alright, Ames? You look a bit off."

I forced a half hearted smile, "I'm fine, I promise. Just nervous."

She patted my arm with a sympathetic smile, and went to check on the four dresses currently hanging from the front of the armoire. My maids had decided that the Singer ladies would all wear varying shades of purple, since it looked regal yet mysterious. My mother would be wearing a rich, royal purple, Kenna a dark, iridescent indigo, May a pastel lavender so pale that it looked white in certain lights, and I would be wearing a powdery lilac. Marlee was checking them all for loose threads and lint, but they all looked pristine in the soft light.

Staying true to my roots, my hair was left fairly natural, lightly curled and held back with lilac ribbons that matched my dress. They enhanced my usual dewy makeup with a wash of sparkling purple over my eyelids, and despite my upset at the news of Aspen's sister, my heart did a little flutter when I looked in the mirror.

This was what royal life was all about; sparkling on the outside even when you were falling apart on the inside.

* * *

I was grateful that the reception was just a drinks and canapés affair - I was in no mood for dancing. I introduced my mom and Kenna to Braelyn and her family whilst May and Kemper reunited, and before long they were all lost in conversation. Braelyn's family were every bit as gentle and witty as she was, and amongst the sea of dignitaries, I could sense my own family were relieved to have found some Fours for company.

Braelyn caught my wrist as I reached for my third glass of champagne, and breathed, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, raising my eyebrows in surprise.

"You're drinking like a fish, America!" Braelyn hissed, sounding uncommonly maternal, "Make the next one a juice, or you'll be comatose for the coronation tomorrow."

I rolled my eyes, but nonetheless I made my next drink a cranberry juice, earning an approving nod from Braelyn. When the two of us found ourselves alone for a moment, she asked, "Are you alright? You don't seem yourself."

"Bad news from Carolina," I sighed with a weak shrug.

Braelyn wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me in for a reassuring squeeze, but thankfully she didn't push the matter.

When Maxon and Amberley were announced and descended the stairs into the Great Room. I couldn't bring myself to look at him. I still felt uneasy about where we stood, and I was angry that he hadn't found a way to let me know about Celia. Surely he must have gathered that I cared about Aspen's family?

I spent the next half hour actively avoiding him. This was supposed to be a celebratory occasion, and I was in no mood to publicly air our dirty laundry. Whenever I spotted Maxon I could sense he was looking for someone in the crowds, and I had an unsettling feeling that person was me. Once we made eye contact, but I forced myself to look away like I hadn't even noticed, losing myself in the masses of people.

After draining my cranberry juice, I grabbed another champagne to cool my nerves. Kenna found me, and frowned when she saw the panic in my eyes.

"You're avoiding him," she stated, eying me with disapproval.

I stuck out my chin petulantly, "What makes you say that?"

"Oh, come on, Ames," she sighed, rolling her eyes, "You're more skittish than a nervous cat! What's going on."

"Nothing," I stated firmly, my Kenna clearly wasn't buying it.

"If something's going on then you should talk to him - don't torture the poor boy."

I gave up, dropping my shoulders and shaking my head pitifully, "It's not the time for it. He's too busy."

Kenna raised an eyebrow, "He sure doesn't look busy - he looks like he's looking for you."

"I can't talk to him right now," I breathed pathetically.

Placing a firm hand on her hip, Kenna said, "America Singer, aside from our mother, I'm the only married woman you know, so have a little faith in me will you? If something is up, you need to address it. _Go and talk to him_."

She enunciated each word of the last sentence so pointedly that I had no choice but to nod and agree. Instructing me to find Maxon and talk to him the moment I had the opportunity, she finally left me alone.

* * *

**My train is about to get to the station so I can't reply to reviews individually today, but once again thank you all so much for the overwhelming response! To those who asked about the modeling job, I'm modeling some wedding dresses at a wedding fair :) I'll keep trying to update over the next couple of days, but since I'm on the move I can't make any promise!**


	39. The Beginning

**I've been dying to write this chapter! I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. For a peek at America's coronation outfit, take a look at my Instagram, 'Floraquatica'. Happy reading...**

* * *

On Kenna's instruction, I set down my champagne glass and went to find Maxon. He'd been shadowing me all evening, so how hard could it be to pin him down? I wound my way around the edge of the room, searching the crowds for that familiar head of fair hair. A handful of people stopped me to congratulate me once again for saving Nicoletta from the rebels before the Winter Ball, however I graciously excused myself from their company as swiftly as I could.

After a few laps of the Great Room I came to the grim realisation that Maxon was no longer there. For whatever reason, he'd already left the reception. My stomach sank.

"America!" a familiar voice sang, hugging me from behind. I jumped in surprise, however when I turned around I was greeted by Nicoletta's beaming face, and my own lips stretched into a broad smile.

"Nicoletta!" I laughed, returning the hug, "How are you?"

She rolled her eyes, "I am so tired, America! The English royal jet is out of service, so we traveled via England to pick up Franco, Emilia and the boys. We didn't mind, but it put us behind schedule."

I smiled sympathetically, "Where are your parents and the English royals? I have a feeling my little sister would love to meet Prince Alexander and Prince Seth."

"They are all too tired to attend tonight, but you will see them at the coronation tomorrow. For now, you must introduce me to your family!"

Introducing Nicoletta to my family was a welcome distraction from Maxon's sudden disappearance. My parents seemed slightly awed by my friendship with the Italian princess, whilst May and Gerad instantly fell in love with her foreign charm. She let May try her tiara on, and insisted on teaching Gerad some of the Italian court dances, even though the reception wasn't strictly a dancing affair.

Later that night, I collapsed on my bed fully dressed. Nicoletta had coerced a few more glasses of champagne down my throat, and my head was swimming. I rang for my maids and they helped me out of my dress, combing out my hair and washing my face. I fell asleep the moment my head touched the pillow.

* * *

I was woken up by a pair of arms winding around my waist. It was still dark, but I could feel Maxon's weight on the bed beside me. Still half asleep, I rolled over and nestled into his chest, and he dutifully tightened his arms around me.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he whispered.

I shook my head gently, "I'm glad you did. Where did you go tonight?"

"Last minute preparations," he sighed, pressing his forehead tiredly to mine.

I exhaled a long, low breath, "Wow, that is pretty last minute."

I felt him shrug beside me, before he asked, "Why were you avoiding me? I wanted to clear the air with you before the coronation."

I sighed pitifully, "I wanted to clear the air too, but then I heard some bad news from Carolina."

"What?"

"Officer Leger's sister," I began quietly, "The one who was sick. She passed away, and I didn't even know. I wish I could have done something, or at very least been there for him."

Maxon tensed beside me at the mention of Aspen, "America, you assured me that your feelings for that boy had passed."

"They have," I choked, tears beginning to thicken in my throat, "But I'll always care about him, and his sister was too young..."

Despite his frustration, Maxon squeezed me comfortingly, sensing how upset I was. He stroked his fingers through my hair, and held me tight, whispering sweet, comforting things in my ear until I finally fell asleep.

When I woke up in the morning, he was gone.

* * *

Just as Braelyn had cautioned, the next morning my head felt dull and achey, and whenever I moved I felt faintly seasick. Marlee drew me a hot chamomile bath, but after ten minutes the heat became stifling and I felt even worse. Nevertheless, I allowed her to wash my hair. Since it was a special occasion, she massaged an array of sweet smelling products into my scalp, and despite my sorry state it actually felt quite nice.

Wrapped in my bath robe, Lucy steered me over to the dressing table, coaxing me into the chair and pressing a mug of herbal tea into my pale hands.

"Drink it - it'll help," she insisted with a weak smile.

They'd ordered breakfast to my room; a plate of eggs, bacon, and fried potatoes, with a tall glass of orange juice. At first the smell of it made me feel queasy, however after a few reluctant mouthfuls it began to feel good on my churning stomach, and I cleared my plate, chasing it all down with the sweet orange juice.

My maids could obviously tell that I was feeling a bit better, as they finally set to work on my hair and makeup. Mary left my hair loose and curly, but wound a thin braid in a halo around my head, studding it with tiny sprigs of babies breath and small, pale roses. Anne kept my makeup natural, but took her time with it, making sure my skin looked utterly flawless and pearly.

When it was time for me to get dressed, Mary placed her hands over my eyes whilst Lucy and Marlee hung my dress on the armoire. Once it was in place, Mary dropped her hands, and I finally set eyes on that all-important white dress.

The silhouette was classic; a sweetheart bodice, with a flowing tulle skirt that was neither too big, nor too understated. An invisible mesh undershirt was covered with pearls, beads, and floral adornments that would twist across my chest and down my arms. The same embellishments continued down the bodice, spilling out onto the folds of the skirt. It looked utterly ethereal, like something from a fairytale.

"What are we waiting for?" I choked with a smile, trying to counteract the tears forming in my eyes with laughter, "Let's try it on!"

It looked even prettier on. The transparent floral sleeves looked elegant and lovely over my fair skin, and the waist nipped in at the perfect point just above my hips. It was undeniably bridal, and looking at myself in the mirror felt incredibly surreal. Despite Maxon's insistence that I was too young to get married for the time being, part of me wished I could walk down the aisle wearing that dress. Whilst it was every bit as opulent as a palace dress should be, I still felt like myself - like America Singer.

_Aspen would love me in this dress_, I thought quietly to myself.

After being perfumed and primped, my maids ushered me down the corridor, where Silvia was waiting with Braelyn and Kriss. Braelyn's dress was white satin, with a full skirt and off-the-shoulder sleeves, whilst Kriss's was tulle -like mine, I noted sadly- with lace cap sleeves and a ballerina length skirt, exposing a pair of delicate white shoes. Braelyn and I hugged one another lightly, careful not to smudge our makeup, and we even exchanged smiles with Kriss; the Selection would be over in an hour, and there was no reason to maintain grudges.

Silvia lead us down to the Great Room, which had been transformed for the coronation with great swathes of gold and white fabric. The room was spilling over with candelabras and floral arrangements, and there were rows upon rows of seats facing the staircase, at the base of which an ornate stage had been set up. To the side of the stage were four seats for Amberley, Kriss, Braelyn and I, and in the centre stood the throne, and a podium holding the crown, sceptre, and orb - relics usually seen solely in history books.

We were amongst the first to take our seats. The band played softly from the top of the stairs, and we watched as dignitaries and our families filled the seats. Amberley's family were in the first row, and I stole a quick wave and smile in their direction.

Once the room was full of guests and cameras, the music dipped and the high minister stepped on the stage wearing his ceremonial robes. He asked us all to stand, and Maxon entered the room from the top of the staircase, his mother on his arm. When they reached the stage, they kissed one another on the cheek, and Amberley came to take her seat beside us. Maxon looked like a different person, medals and sashes covering his chest, and an ermine robe draped artfully from his shoulders. I felt a strange relief when he looked my way and flashed me a goofy smile; he may have been about to become King, but he was still my Maxon.

The ceremony was long, and if weren't for my knowledge of other languages, I wouldn't have understood half of what the high minister was saying. I kept my eyes trained on Maxon as he repeated oaths and vows, my heart thrumming in my chest all the while.

Eventually, the high minister instructed him to take his seat on the throne. My heart was in my throat as he placed the crown atop Maxon's head, and presented him with the orb and sceptre. I could see Maxon's hand trembling as he picked them up, and stood from the throne. Everyone in the room followed suit, and spoke, "Long live King Maxon!"

_King Maxon_. Those words sent chills down my spine.

The surge in music signified that the ceremony was over, and Amberley walked across the stage to hug her son as the high minister shook his hand in congratulations, bowing deeply. The whole room swelled with applause, however Maxon soon raised his hand, asking for silence. Everyone was quick to oblige the new King.

"Thank you for joining us today on this most solemn of occasions," he began, bowing his head briefly, his crown catching the light, "I am proud to stand before you as the new King of Illea, and I vow to do everything in my power to make it the great country I know it has the potential to be. However, every great King needs a gracious Queen by his side. The Selection is a revered Illean tradition, and I am overjoyed to announce that it has helped me find a woman with whom I have fallen deeply in love, and who I believe will make a wonderful Queen."

Amberley came over to us, gesturing for us all to follow her out onto the stage. Without thinking, the three of us took one another's hands, standing in a line behind Maxon. I could feel my erratic butterflies in my stomach, and the room began to blur at the edges, my attention focused entirely on Maxon and the announcement that would change both of our lives forever.

He turned to us with a composed smile, although I knew him well enough to see that he was all nerves beneath it, "Lords, ladies, and gentlemen, may I present my future wife and Queen of Illea - Lady America Singer."

And, just like that, the room erupted.

* * *

**Replying to reviews on my iPad is proving a bit tricky, so I will try and respond to them via PM throughout the course of the day instead :) However, I will say a very big thank you to everyone who reviewed, especially those who've done so on every chapter. You make writing this story a complete joy! Someone pointed out that this story is now the second most reviewed in the Selection section, which is utterly and completely MAD. In short, you guys are the best! There's still about ten chapters left, but there's a sequel in the making :)**


	40. Always

**Apologies for the minor cliffhanger in the last chapter - I can never resist a bit of suspense! Hope you enjoy Chapter 40...**

* * *

It was the Italians I heard first. They launched themselves from their seats, shouting in celebration and clapping their hands in the air. Nicoletta and her cousins were blowing handfuls of exuberant kisses in our direction, and their enthusiasm coaxed others from their seats, until almost the whole room was on their feet, applauding and shouting in delight.

Maxon held out his hand for mine, and I willingly laced my fingers through his. I felt Braelyn's hand on the small of my back, urging me forward. I turned to face her and she flashed me an encouraging yet undeniably sad smile. I didn't dare look at Kriss; I couldn't imagine how angry she would be.

My heart pulsed in my throat as I stepped forward, taking my place by Maxon's side. This was it; I'd finally won the Selection, and Maxon was mine.

He wound his arm around my waist and leaned over to whisper in my ear, "By the way, you look beautiful today."

I felt my cheeks blush furiously as he pressed an unabashed kiss to my cheek in front of the whole room, making the applause even louder.

When the initial excitement had passed, the high minister approached us with the Illean Book of Law. He instructed us to place our hands on the cover as we recited an oath of betrothal, officially ending the Selection and binding me to the Illean royal family. Before I knew it, Amberley was wrapping her arms around me, tears streaking her pretty face.

"Welcome to the family, dear," she laughed, cupping my cheek in her hand, "I knew it was you - I just knew it."

As the rest of the guests began to filter out of the room, I raced down from the stage, forgetting all of Silvia's training, and ran straight into my parents arms. My mom's face was pink and tear-stained, whilst my dad positively glowed. Their arms enveloped me, and I felt Kenna, May and Gerad join the group hug. We only broke apart when we heard a cough behind us, and I turned to see Maxon beaming in our direction, still wearing his crown and ermine robe.

My dad was the first to approach him, bowing deeply before shaking his hand, "Congratulations, your majesty, and welcome to the family."

Maxon's smile grew wider, and he pulled my father into a half-hug, clapping a hand against his back as he laughed, "Please, Shalom, call me Maxon. You're to be my father-in-law - I should be the one bowing to you!"

Everyone laughed, and a few quiet tears slid down my cheeks as I observed our two families truly becoming one.

* * *

The Great Room was transformed for the reception. The stage was disassembled, and the chairs rearranged around dozens of tables. Maxon and I were to be announced together after his mother, and we stood behind the curtains at the top of the staircase giggling like schoolchildren. It was the first few minutes we'd had alone together, and we simply collapsed into one another, unable to stop laughing and peppering kisses over one another's faces.

Maxon's crown had slipped, so I reached up and straightened it for him. It was such a heavy thing, and I had no idea how he'd been able to stand wearing it for so long.

"I'm sick of that thing already," he teased, landing a chaste kiss on my lips.

"Oh be quiet," I reprimanded, pressing my fingers into the soft ermine of his robe, "It's beautiful. I feel underdressed in comparison."

He pressed his hands into my back, pulling me towards his chest, "Well you don't look underdressed - you look perfect. Besides, you'll be wearing you own tiara soon enough."

My heart fluttered as a surge in the music alerted us it was time for our entrance. We quickly composed ourselves, and Maxon offered me his arm, sweeping me around the corner and down the stairs. For the second time that day, the whole room burst into ecstatic applause.

Dinner was a blur. I sat at a table with Maxon, Amberley, and my family, and barely a minute would pass without some dignitary or another passing by to offer their congratulations. I recognised the Italian and English royals, and introduced them to my family; by the looks in their eyes, they were finding the whole experience dizzying.

At one point I excused myself, deciding it was only right that I talk with Braelyn and Kriss. They and their families shared a table, and their expressions were mixed as I approached. Kriss looked utterly lost and miserable, whilst her family tried to hide their bitterness behind bored smiles. Braelyn's family wore kinder espressions, whilst Braelyn herself looked surprisingly relaxed, like she'd already come to terms with the events of the day.

She was the first on her feet, pulling me into a sisterly hug.

"I'm sorry," I quietly sighed in her ear, "I know you have feelings for him."

Braelyn shook her head, "Oh America, don't be sorry. Yes, I care about Maxon, but he and I are better off as friends. You two are perfect for one another."

She then pulled away from me, turning to face her family, "Actually, there was something I wanted to announce once I had you all together."

My eyebrows shot up in curiosity, and her family looked equally bemused.

"I'm staying at the palace!" She began, and I felt my heart skip a beat, "There was some business with the rebels earlier this week, and Maxon and his advisers think I'll do well on the committee who are dealing with them."

I felt my hands fly to my mouth as my lips began to bubble over with giddy laughter. Braelyn was staying at the palace, but not as a member of the Selection. The two of us could finally be real friends.

"That's fantastic!" I squealed, hugging her once again, "Congratulations!"

Braelyn's family were all on their feet, pulling her into celebratory hugs. I stole a glance at Kriss, and she looked utterly crestfallen at the news that she would be the only one of us leaving the palace the next day.

* * *

The music began, and for once I was eager to get out on the dance floor. Maxon and I led the first dance of the night, and for the first time we could be completely at ease with one another. I felt no guilt melting into his embrace and tangling my fingers in the hair at the base of his neck. I'd introduced May to Prince Alexander and Prince Seth, and she'd turned to butter the moment they spoke to her with their eloquent English accents. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted her dancing with Seth, and I smiled quietly into Maxon's neck.

"You're letting Braelyn stay?" I asked excitedly as Maxon led me around the floor.

"I thought you might like that," he replied, lowering his hands to the small of my back, "She seems to know a lot about the rebels methods and what it is they want, and her allegiance has undeniably changed. I think she'll really be able to help us."

"I'm sure she will," I sighed, resting my head on his shoulder, "And I'm glad she's staying here. I might have her as a bridesmaid."

Maxon pulled away slightly, raising an eyebrow, "Don't get ahead of yourself, Mer."

"Oh, come on," I laughed, "There's no harm in throwing ideas around."

"Alright," he said firmly, relaxing a little, "But our priority right now has to be dealing with the sorry state of this country."

I nodded in agreement, then we allowed ourselves to get swept up in the music. Tonight was our night, and for the the first time there was nothing that could come between us. We danced until our feet were bruised and the candles were burning themselves out.

* * *

Instinctively I turned towards my bedroom, however Maxon caught me around the waist with a goofy smile, asking, "Where exactly do you think you're going?"

"My room..." I began, however my voice faltered as it dawned on me that I had a different room now. Maxon grinned, and pulled me eagerly towards the third floor. There were now guards stationed at both his door, and that of the Princess Suite - they both bowed their heads when Maxon and I approached.

He pushed the door open, and I took my first step into my new room. The palette was fresh and clean; powder blues and muted light greys, with delicate pink accents. It was light and airy, with ornate white furniture and velvety blue soft furnishings. The bed was piled with silky pillows, and sheltered by a gauzy blue canopy. It had been completely transformed.

"Do you like it?" Maxon asked quietly, slipping his hand into mine.

"I love it," I whispered, then nodded towards the door connecting to the Prince's Suite, "Now that you're king, will you be moving?"

Maxon shook his head, "Since this is an unorthodox situation, I'll be staying in my room until we're married. My mother is still in the Queen's Suite, so the King's suite will simply remain unused for the time being. Besides, I'm fond of my room."

I smiled shyly, suddenly all-too-aware of how close Maxon and I would be to one another every night. I wandered about the room, touching all of the luxuriant furnishings, and sniffing the numerous flower arrangements. My things hadn't been brought up yet, but it already felt like home, if only for it's proximity to Maxon.

"Stay with me tonight," I asked gently, perching at the end of my new bed.

He smirked, lifting the crown from his head and placing it on my new vanity table, "Always."

* * *

**Once again, this chapter was written on the train on my iPad, so replying to reviews is a bit tricky. I'm finally getting home tonight, so as of tomorrow I'll be replying to reviews properly again - yay! Thank you all for your support. I never knew what to expect of Fanfiction, but you've made it such a wonderful, positive experience. Love and hugs to you all x**


	41. A New Life

When I woke up the next morning, my first response was to panic at the sight of Maxon in my bed. As much as I loved sleeping in his arms, I was so used to the idea of us sharing a bed being taboo that the sight of him lying there, his hair all messy and his chest rising and falling gently as he slept, made my blood turn to ice. It took me a long few moments to realise that now Maxon was King and we slept in adjoining rooms there was nothing anyone could say about us sleeping beside one another.

I sighed deeply, blowing a few strands of red hair out of my tired face, and relaxed back into bed, resting my head on Maxon's chest. His back may have been a labyrinth of scars and healing wounds, but the beauty of his chest compensated for it a thousand times over. I walked my fingers across his pale yet perfect skin, enjoying him whilst he slept. It wasn't often that Maxon had a day off, but today was New Years Day -a national holiday- so he was able to sleep late for once.

There was a knock at the door, so I pulled myself upright, hitching the blankets up over Maxon's chest to preserve his modesty. Marlee entered with a breakfast tray, and smiled at the sight of the two of us in bed together, even going so far as to flash me a cheeky wink as she set the tray down on the table.

My cheeks flared red. I could only imagine what she'd assume Maxon and I had done, but in truth we'd been so tired after the coronation and reception that we hadn't been up for anything too... Energetic. I'd changed into one of my nightgowns, and Maxon had switched his coronation outfit for a far more relaxed pair of pajama pants, and we'd simply spent an hour or so holding one another in the darkness, sharing a slow yet passionate kiss. Flames had burnt in my stomach the whole time, roiling and twisting and growing, peaking whenever he'd slip his fingers beneath the thin fabric of my nightgown, tracing his fingers down the scars that now marred my own back.

I stuck my tongue out playfully at Marlee, and she left with a grin, bowing comically as she backed out of the door. I tried to stifle my laughter, but a breathy giggle escaped, rousing Maxon from his sleep.

"What's so funny?" he murmured groggily, and I simply smiled in response, lowering my fingers to his face and brushing the tangled honey-blonde hair from his forehead.

"Nothing," I replied, flashing a reassuring smile, "Breakfast's here."

We both pulled on our robes and moved over to the small table in front of the large windows overlooking the gardens. The view was perfect, and I couldn't resist throwing the balcony doors open, letting the frigid January air fill the room.

"Christ, America," Maxon laughed, pulling his robe tighter around himself, "We'll both freeze to death."

"Oh, shush," I giggled, perching on his lap and wrapping my arms around his neck, "You need some fresh air - you've been locked up in this palace too long."

Maxon fluttered his eyelashes girlishly, "So turning me into a human ice cube is your equivalent to climbing my long golden hair and saving me from my tower?"

I thumped his arm playfully and stuck my tongue out as he wound his arms around my waist. Before I could come up with some witty retort, he pressed his lips to mine, and any comebacks I'd been cooking up turned to smoke.

* * *

Amberley was hosting a farewell tea in the Women's Room for all of the female guests who would be leaving that afternoon. May, mom and Kenna attended, although they would now be staying in Angeles, in a new house nearby that was currently being prepared for them. They came straight from their makeovers, and they entered the room in a cloud of hairspray and perfume, hair blow-dried and smiles dazzlingly bright.

Amberley had bounced to her feet the moment I'd stepped into the room, hugging me like I was a daughter and landing kisses on both of my cheeks.

"We've a lot of hard work coming up," she sighed, brushing a few loose hairs out of my face, "So let's enjoy today, shall we?"

"Of course, your majesty," I replied with a fond smile.

The Queen laughed, "Oh, America. Please, call me Amberley."

I was seated between Braelyn and Kriss, whilst Amberley had seated my mother right by her side. I glowed with pride as I watched the two of them bonding and talking; it was almost enough to distract me from how awkward I felt trying to converse with Kriss, who was stiff as a board.

"Are you looking forward to going home, Kriss?" I asked, trying to coax a response out of her.

She sniffed, "I suppose. It will be nice to see my friends again."

"You must miss Columbia?" Braelyn prompted, but Kriss refused to look in her direction.

"Not really," she sighed, stirring her tea lazily.

"I'm sure so many opportunities will come your way," Braelyn added, trying to keep her tone light and friendly, "Not many girls make it to the final three of the Selection!"

"No," she muttered, refusing to look our way, "But it doesn't feel great when you're the only one who isn't asked to stay for some reason or another."

Braelyn and I shuffled uncomfortably in our seats, exchanging awkward looks. Eventually Braelyn attempted a diplomatic angle, "I'm sure things around here will change now that the Selection is over. I'll be trading in my ballgowns for suits and getting my hands dirty negotiating with the rebels. Not very glamorous at all!"

Kriss shot her a pointed look, and whispered, "You don't get it, do you? At least he _wanted _you around here, for whatever reason. He could have found a reason for me to stay too, but he didn't."

I leaned back in my chair, wishing I could disappear. The dull gleam in Kriss's eyes was brimming with heartbreak, but it also hinted at danger. She was a girl being pushed to her emotional limits.

"I'm sorry, Kriss," I managed to squeak in a small voice.

She refused to look at me, instead tugging the napkin from her lap and dropping it on her plate, "Whatever, America. I'm not very hungry. I should probably go finish packing."

* * *

Maxon spent the afternoon helping me move my things into the Princess Suite. Aside from my growing collection of dresses, which we took our time hanging in my new dressing room, there wasn't really much to move. I arranged all of my jewellery in the crystal box on my vanity table alongside a selection of the crown jewels that were now considered mine, whilst Maxon slipped my photos into the various ornate frames scattered around the room.

When he was finished, he ducked through the door into his own room, and returned with another handful of photos. He sat down of the bed and spread them out on top of the blankets, waving me over to see them.

"They're from our trip to Carolina," he explained with a shy smile, "I developed them as soon as we returned, but I was waiting for a special occasion to give them to you."

I sat down beside him, leaning into his side. Picking up the photos, I proceeded to shuffle them tentatively through my fingers. There were photos of May and I laughing in the garden and sitting huddled together in the long grass, then there were photos of our family Christmas, taken late at night when our cheeks were pink and our bellies full of wine - my memories of them being taking were fuzzy at best. Finally, there were the photos of Maxon and I that May had taken, holding one another in the shade of the evergreens, and giggling in front of the tree house. The final ones were of Maxon tickling me, and we both looked utterly, incandescently happy. What I loved about them most was the absence of tiaras and ballgowns, jewels and crowns, pomp and decorum; we simply looked like any normal couple, not a prince and member of the Selection. Just Maxon and Mer.

I didn't realise I was crying until Maxon wiped the tears from my cheeks.

"Would you like us to frame them?" he asked with a gentle smile.

"Yes, please," I replied weakly, and we spent the next hour curled up on the bed, laughing at the fond memories and deciding which frame to put each photo in.

We were interrupted by an authoritative knock at the door. One of Maxon's guards stuck his head inside promptly, "Your majesty, Lady America, Officer Leger has just arrived from Carolina. You said to alert you the moment he got here."

Maxon bowed his head graciously, "Thank you, officer. Send him to my office and I'll be right with him."

My heart sank, and the moment the guard closed the door I turned to Maxon with wide, pleading eyes, "Maxon, let me talk to him."

He frowned, "I'm not sure about that, Mer."

I ground my back teeth together in frustration, "Please. He's made mistakes, but I know how much of a hit it must have been losing his sister. I need to talk to him - I owe him that much."

Maxon still didn't look convinced. He pressed his fingers to his temples and sighed, "You owe him nothing."

"Perhaps not," I murmured, touching a beseeching hand to his cheek, "But I'll always care about him. He's hurting, and he needs a friend."

Maxon ran a frustrated hand through his hair. I could tell he still didn't like the idea, but he didn't want to ruin our day by arguing about it. In the end he held up his hands in submission with a blunt, "Fine, if you insist."

We wasted no time, sliding off the bed and out the door. I just about remembered my way to Maxon's office, but he still insisted in coming with me, even if just to stand outside. I hated how tense he seemed, however I reminded myself that his anger was entirely justified. From his perspective, Aspen had caused nothing but trouble.

Maxon held the door open for me, and I stepped inside to discover Aspen stood in front of the desk, arms folded behind his back. When he heard the door he turned to face me, clearly expecting Maxon. At the sight of me, his gaze softened marginally, although he still looked tense.

"I believe congratulations are in order," he stated dryly.

"Yes," I replied, making an arc around him and perching on the edge of Maxon's vast desk, "Maxon and I are incredibly happy."

"I should hope. He has no idea how lucky he is."

I raised an eyebrow, "That's your king you're talking about."

Aspen rolled his eyes, "Sorry. _His majesty_ had no idea how lucky _his majesty_ is."

"Let's not be childish, Officer Leger."

"Apologies, _Lady_ America," he replied snidely, picking a piece of lint off the front of his uniform dismissively.

I chewed on my lip, trying to resist retaliation. I reminded myself that Aspen had been through a world of hurt that I could only begin to imagine.

"I'm so sorry about Celia," I sighed, and the tension in the room dropped in an instant.

Aspen's entire demeanor fell at the mention of his sister's death. Staring at the floor, he whispered, "I thought you didn't care. I didn't hear anything from you."

My heart wrenched in my chest, and I slid off the desk, moving over to Aspen and taking his face in my hands, "Aspen, I didn't know until my family arrived the other day."

He glanced up at me in surprise, "You didn't?"

I shook my head with a small smile, "How could I have known?"

He took a moment to digest that information, then gathered me into his arms. His expression was so desperate that I didn't fight him, I simply allowed him to cling to me as he choked, "Everything is falling apart, Mer. Everything."

I felt a flutter in my stomach as I remembered Lucy. I pulled away from him with a sad smile, "Not everything, Aspen."

His eyes flashed hopefully, "What do you mean?"

"I know about you and Lucy."

"What?"

He sounded so surprised that I couldn't help but laugh, "She's completely besotted with you. But it's more than that... She's pregnant, Aspen."

His eyes became wide orbs, "And she's sure it's mine?"

I laughed dryly, "This is Lucy we're talking about. She's sure."

"My God."

I gave him a moment to come to terms with the news before asking, "May I ask how that happened?"

He rubbed his arm nervously, "You can't imagine how hard it was, watching you fall in love with him. Lucy was so sweet, and it was refreshing having someone who seemed to genuinely want _me_ - who I didn't have to fight for. One night I was angry and drunk, and it just... happened."

I didn't know what to make of his story. I couldn't even figure out how I felt about it; whether I felt betrayed, angry, or simply confused. In the end, there was only one question I could ask, "Will you do the right thing? Will you support her?"

Aspen looked up at me with sad yet determined eyes, "Of course I will."

* * *

**tourquisestar - Thank you so much! **

**Karategirl537 - She's definitely not happy! We'll have to wait and see.**

**d12t4eva - Initially the 'Always' was a Harry Potter reference, but then I realised the Hunger Games parallel too!**

**Abbie loves reading - Like I said above, it was initially a Harry Potter reference :)**

**ShadowhunterWithABow - Thank you! It took me ages to finalise the Princess Suite colour scheme.**

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**LucyMac - Thank you so much! I've had a few reactions like that, but quite frankly the idea of a 17 year old marrying a man she's only known for a few months gives me the heebie-jeebies, no matter how dreamy and charming he may be!**

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	42. Letters

**I can't believe this story is starting to come to an end! There's still the sequel to come, but nevertheless, I can't believe I've seen this through and written 85,000 words in under two months - that's complete madness! Thank you all for your support; I doubt I would have come this far without you all cheer-leading me along the way :)**

Remember you can find behind the scenes goodies on Instagram, at 'Floraquatica'.

**Hope you enjoy Chapter 42...**

* * *

I sat quietly in my chair, chewing on the end of my pen and trying not to look as confused as I felt. This was my first official meeting, and I never could have imagined how complex Maxon's job was. Since I was still finding my feet, I sat in a corner with Amberley, who was helping me develop my ideas for my philanthropy project. We knew it would be something that would help begin to blur the lines between the castes, but the question was, what? And how would it work?

I listened intently to the discussion that moved around the table; I didn't contribute, I simply observed, jotting notes down in my file. Maxon would shoot me an encouraging smile from time to time, and I'd just about manage to return a weak grimace of my own.

The current topic drew to a close, and Maxon motioned across the table to Braelyn, who was sat nearby with the dagger in it's box in front of her, "Next on today's agenda, the newest member of the Rebel Activity Committee, Lady Braelyn Symons, is here to discuss their latest developments. Lady Braelyn?"

"Thank you, your majesty," she replied, standing up and folding her hands in front of her, "Lords and ladies, by now I assume most of you are aware of the last week's incident regarding a dagger that I myself brought into the palace under rebel coercion. My fellow committee members and I have spent the past week investigating the matter further; arrests have already been made in Whites on our behalf, however we intend to send a team over in person to delve deeper.

"We've also been examining the dagger itself. The rebels were under the impression that if it were used to take King Maxon's life, then for some reason the blame wouldn't placed on anyone currently residing within the palace walls. Our question, of course, is why? There is a prominent emblem on the box, and on the handle of the dagger itself, and we can only assume that the rebels wanted us to place the blame on whomever it originally belonged to."

Maxon's brow furrowed, "Have you had any luck identifying the emblem?"

Braelyn shook her head, "Unfortunately not, your majesty. In any case, it may well be a red herring, however we're still treating it with the utmost importance. We've checked it alongside the emblems for every country, aswell as a number of prominent Illéan families, however so far nothing resembles it."

The dagger and it's box were passed around the table to see if anyone else had any idea who the emblem belonged to, however every face remained puzzled. When the box reached me, I pushed it straight across to Amberley - I couldn't stomach looking at it.

"May I inquire as to the team who will be going to Whites?" Maxon asked, shuffling papers through his fingers.

"Of course, your majesty. I will be going, along with three other members of the Rebel Activity Committee. Five members of the emergency response guard will be joining us - just in case."

My head snapped around on my neck, eyes wide. The emergency response guard were the sharpest and most lethal of the royal guard, and were only dispensed on the riskiest of missions. I didn't like the idea of Braelyn going on a mission that required their assistance, although apparently the notion didn't bother anyone else. Maxon simply nodded and said, "Very good. Keep us updated, and I'll pass the the dagger along to the Master of Records - maybe he'll be able to identify the emblem."

After the meeting, I hugged my files to my chest and hurried down the corridor after Braelyn. I managed to catch her by the elbow before she rounded the corner to the Rebel Activity offices, and she turned to face me with a surprised smile.

"America, is everything alright?"

I shook my head, "I don't like the idea of you going back to Whites. What if the rebels are angry at you for turning against them?"

Braelyn laughed, placing a tender hand on my shoulder, "Don't worry, I can handle myself. Besides, we'll have an emergency response team with us."

"But do you have to go _personally_?" I asked, sounding desperate.

"I have to prove myself," she sighed, glancing around nervously, "Maxon believes that my allegiance has changed, but I know that some of the advisers still question my motives. If I do this, I can prove myself trustworthy."

I frowned lightly, but I could understand where she was coming from. I knew all too well what it was like to deal with high ranking people in the palace who questioned you.

My lips tugged up into a sad smile, "Stay safe."

"I will."

* * *

Whilst my own office was being prepared, I spent my days with Amberley, shadowing her and working on my philanthropy project. We had a long way to go before we could completely rid Illéa of the caste system; Maxon had likened it to 'boiling a frog', saying that we had to introduce it steadily, otherwise the people simply wouldn't be able to handle it and the whole thing would crumble. The idea was for my philanthropy project to introduce elements of the notion in a non-threatening way; to bring the water to a gentle simmer.

We were both working quietly, a gentle bout of rain rinsing the windows. Amberley eventually lifted her head from the calender she was analyzing, and unexpectedly announced, "Maxon tells me your birthday is next month."

I flashed a small smile, "Yes - February twenty sixth."

Amberley nodded thoughtfully, "It's your eighteenth, isn't it? That's an important age - we'll have to throw a party to celebrate."

I shook my head lightly, not wanting to cause a fuss, "Please, don't worry about it. There's more important things going on."

"Which is exactly why we could do with a ball," Amberley laughed, "There are no other celebratory events coming up, and come February we'll all need to let off some steam."

I smiled gratefully; I could never bring myself to argue with Amberley.

"By the way," She added, nodding over the the table by the door, "Some letters came from you."

Sure enough, there was a wad of envelopes waiting on the table. Bored of my desk, I settled into an armchair by the window, opening the first of the letters. I recognised the Italian seal, and my lips twisted into a smile. Sure enough, I unfolded the paper to discover Nicoletta's handwriting, and promptly devoured her words.

"Princess Nicoletta has invited me to Italy," I called over to Amberley, who lifted her head from her work with intrigue, "She says they're having a low key reception for her parent's wedding anniversary, and she thinks it'll be a good 'initiation' for me."

Amberley laughed quietly, "I think she may be right."

"She's also invited my sister, since she assumes Maxon will be too busy to attend."

"What a lovely idea. Italy is a country well worth seeing," Amberley agreed, "Send the dates my way and I'll schedule it in for you whilst I've got the calendar out."

The next letter was on unfamiliar stationary. I ran the letter knife through the parchment, and slipped the paper out with curious fingers. My eyes darted to the sender's address.

_Kota Singer_.

Oh crap.

_'Dearest America,_

_I find myself in quite an awkward situation. After taking time out of my busy schedule to see you whilst on your trip to Carolina, I wasn't extended an invitation to the coronation, whilst it appears the rest of our family were. Have I done something to snub you, sister? Or can I assume that this is our father's doing? We're birds of a feather now, you and I, and I would very much appreciate an invitation to the palace someday soon._

_With this in mind, I have relocated to Angeles. It makes sense for my studio to be closer to the cultural hub of the country anyway, and I hope our new proximity will help us rekindle our relationship. I am your brother, America, and I care about you, Kenna, May and Gerad more than anything - whether you chose to believe that or not._

_Chose your battles wisely, America. Until you're married to the king, your standing in the palace is delicate, and you need every ally you can get._

_I hope to see you soon._

_Your brother,_

_Kota'_

I sucked in an angry breath through my teeth, and Amberley glanced my way in concern. Shaking my head dismissively, I sighed, "My brother, Kota."

Amberly nodded graciously, and returned to her work. I'd explained the situation with Kota, so she didn't require any more information. Balling his letter into a crumbled heap in my fist, I moved onto the final letter. The paper wasn't as heavy and expensive as the previous two, and I couldn't imagine who else would be writing to me.

I slipped the paper from the envelope, and tacked to the front was a trio of dried flowers, pressed flat - wildflowers, much like the ones the rebels had left in my room to reward me after winning back my position as Maxon's favourite. My heart skipped a beat as I unfolded the paper and was greeted with big, bold letters reading-

_**'Princess' America**_

My stomach twisted. I didn't want to read the rest of the letter, but I knew I had to. I glanced over at Amberley to make sure she wasn't watching my reaction, and began to read on...

_'We believe congratulations are in order. You've done as we asked, however, we couldn't help but notice the absence of a traditional proposal. Don't you want a diamond ring on your finger, princess? Or should we even call you that._

_You assured us you that would become Queen, however right now you seem to be nothing more than a pretty accessory. Meanwhile, the new king has done nothing to convince us he truly intends to change the country. We need to see progress; whether it be a wedding date, or assurance of the caste system being abolished, that's up to you._

_Don't assume that you're safe now that you've won the Selection, America. We've got to you before, and we can get to you again. You assured us you wanted to see Illéa change - now prove your worth._

_Sincerely,_

_Your dear friends_

_Ps. You'd be wise to keep this letter to yourself. Your family's new house is just lovely, and your younger sister seems to enjoy exploring the gardens. You wouldn't want her getting lost...'_

* * *

**AbnegationDauntlessErudite - Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed it.**

**prnamber3909 - Let's hope he sticks to his word, eh?**

**tourquisestar - Thank you so much for reading!**

**GrizzlyBear23 - That's so sweet of you! I usually manage to update everyday - have no fear!  
**

** maggiebswim - Aspen isn't my favourite either, but I wanted to continue his story :)**

**d12t4eva - The modeling job was great thanks! My first experience on the catwalk, which was scary but fun! I'm so jealous. Because I'm in the UK mine won't arrive for another week ):**

**Dhenn618 - I wasn't sure how to write Kriss's reaction, but I figured even a 'nice' girl would be pushed to her limits in her situation. Love can make even the most level-headed person a little crazy! I'm glad you're enjoying it so much, and I'm relieved there's so much interest in the sequel!**

**Abbie loves reading - I love Harry Potter too, and I've re-read it more recently than the Hunger Games, however it's funny how those little tidbits stick in your mind!**

**ilona18 - I'm glad you think so! I was sick of hating him, and I wanted to find a way for him to redeem himself. I think he's better off with Lucy!**

**LucyMac - I did feel bad making things so turbulent for them, but I'll make sure they get their happily ever after to some extent. I'm glad you liked the fairytale reference!**

**coweatsicecream - That's so lovely, thank you!**

**zeldafanatic0555 - Your reviews always make me smile! Thank you :)**

**Athenachild101 - I just love the Amberley/America relationship! It's so cute.**

**DaughterofSea - Aww, thank you! I loved writing the first part of them waking up together.**

**HyperFLUFFY ****- Basically it means it makes me feel unsettled and anxious.**

**sparklysparkle - Oh well, I can only hope the plot wins you over! Thanks for being so gracious about it :)**

**Guest - I'll try my hardest ;)  
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**Kaminator - I feel like I've been hard on Aspen, but I think the worst is over now!  
**

**Karategirl537 - I do, however I'm not comfortable publicly sharing it. I'll happily PM it to you and anyone else who's interested, though :)**

**lia isles - Yay! Thank you so much.  
**


	43. Teamwork

I insisted on getting myself ready for bed that night. The letter from the rebels had my mind reeling, and I needed a couple of hours to myself to mull my options over. The letter itself was hidden in a file on my dresser, pressed between pages upon pages of notes, however the image of it was burned into the back of my eyes, tainting my every thought. I sat in the chair at my vanity table, steadily pulling a brush through my hair and focusing on my breathing.

_Do I insist we set a wedding date, _I thought dizzily_, or do I push for Maxon to officially announce the abolition of the castes?_

Neither would be easy. Maxon wanted us to take our time getting properly engaged and married, which I totally understood. We'd known each other a handful of months, for Christ's sake! When I'd planned on marrying Aspen I'd loved him for nearly two years, and whilst my relationship with Maxon was undoubtedly different, there was no sense in racing our marriage - we had the rest of our lives to worry about that.

Whereas the abolition of the castes... That was different. I knew that it wasn't something we could introduce in one fell swoop, but what harm could an announcement make? We just had to get a few stones rolling, enough to convince the rebels. Risking May's safety simply wasn't an option.

_May._

If my family were in any danger, I had to get them someplace safe. Their new home was guarded, but it wasn't nearly as secure as the palace. Besides, now that the Selection was over, there was plenty of room.

The only catch was that I'd had to give Maxon a sound reason. I took a deep, steadying breath; I'd learned my lesson, and this time I had to tell him the truth. The whole truth.

I padded over to the dresser and slipped the letter out from between the pages of the file. Willing Maxon to come to bed soon so that I could talk to him, I paced back and forth across the Princess Suite. For the first time I felt so tense that I poured myself a small glass of wine from the pretty white liquor cabinet, hoping it would take the edge off my nerves. By the time Maxon eventually slipped through the door I'd made a healthy dent in the bottle.

He crossed the room in a few eager steps, scooped me into my arms, and pressed a hard kiss down on my lips. After a few second he pulled away with a coy smile, "Sorry, it's been a long day."

I pushed up on my toes, brushing the faintest of kisses against his lips, "Don't apologise. I needed that."

Maxon raised his eyebrows at the wineglass in my hand; I'd spilled a few drops of white wine on the carpet when he'd taken my by surprise.

"I take it you've had a long day too?"

Shaking my head in pure disbelief, I sighed, "You don't know the half of it."

Maxon demanded to know what had happened, and I forced myself to show him the letter. He hands shook with palpable anger as he digested their words. When he was finished, he scrunched the paper into a ball and tossed into into the steadily burning fire. He paced the room, fingers raking through his hair, jaw tense. I tried touching a gentle hand to his arm, but in his state he didn't seem to feel me. Eventually I gave up, and went to perch on the end of my bed whilst he gathered his thoughts.

After a few painfully slow minutes he turned to face me, "Your family. We'll have them brought here at once."

"Thank you," I sighed, chewing my lip, "I'm so sorry about all this."

Despite his aggravation, Maxon shook his head and fell to his knees at my feet, clasping both of my hands between his, "America, darling, you've nothing to apologise for. I should be the one apologising for dragging you into this world. If it weren't for me..."

He looked tortured, and I instinctively slid down from the bed, curling up on his lap and wrapping my arms around his neck. I brushed the hair away from his ear and whispered, "Maxon Schreave, if it weren't for you I would never have known true happiness, and for that I owe you everything. I love you."

I felt him smile against my neck. Before the coronation I'd been so nervous to say those three words; they'd made me feel vulnerable and naive. However, now that Maxon had officially chosen me I spoke them far more freely, and I could sense they were a balm to him. I knew that when he said them to me, my insides turned to warm honey.

"I love you too," he sighed, and began pressing impassioned kisses to my throat. My breath hitched, and I heard him chuckle darkly in response. Clearly sensing the effect he was having on me, as he brushed the sleeve of my nightgown aside and began to move his lips across my shoulder, then down to my collarbone. Every movement was enticingly slow and lazy, and his mouth felt so hot against the chilly January air.

No matter how wonderful Maxon was making me feel, I had to rein myself in. There was still so much more to discuss, and I couldn't afford to lose myself to him just yet.

"Maxon, what are we going to do?" I breathed, swiftly pulling my sleeve back into place and disentangling myself from his arms.

Disappointment spelled out on his face, Maxon lounged back on the carpet, propped up on his elbows, "Well, they've given us two pretty clear options - rushing into the marriage, or abolition on the castes."

"And what do you think?" I asked carefully, sitting myself on the end of the bed again, folding my legs beneath me.

"Thankfully, neither demand is too outrageous," he began, rubbing a hand across his forehead, "They're both things we were intending to do anyway, but the question is, which can we afford to bring forward?"

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air. We both knew that bringing our wedding forward would be more straightforward, but ultimately it was the abolition that the rebels were after. Even if we did get married to appease them for the time being, they still wouldn't leave us alone until the system changed.

"They're not asking us to abolish the caste system tomorrow," I spoke gently, and Maxon raised his eyes to mine with genuine intrigue, "They simply want assurance. How far have we got with plans? Perhaps we could host a special Report explaining the changes we intend to make, and giving a rough time frame?"

Maxon looked thoughtful, "It's not the worst idea, granted, however it would send the upper castes into uproar - the system works in their favour."

I shook my head, "Maxon, you underestimate the influence you have over them. The upper castes _adore_ you - they want nothing more than to appease you. If you can sell this so that it sounds glamorous and exciting, they'll eat it right up. They'll still have their wealth at the end of the day."

I could tell by the focus in his features that he was weighing up his options, "Maybe you're right, Mer. Maybe we're being too coy about the whole thing."

I flashed a small smile, "We'll talk it through with the advisers once my family are safely settled in. Now - come to bed."

* * *

The more time my family spent in the palace, the more at ease they felt. Whilst my mother took to it like a fish to water, I worried about my dad. With the paint scrubbed from beneath his nails and his hair neatly trimmed, he didn't look like himself. Thankfully Maxon was thoughtful enough to have a studio space set up for him, not too far from the library, and that was where he began to spend most of his time. If in any doubt, we'd be able to find him heaving canvases around the large white room, mixing colourful paints, or researching different artists in the library. It didn't take long for his old creative spark to reignite.

When I wasn't working, I spent time planning my birthday ball with Amberley and my mother. It had been the ideal bonding project for the both of them, and even when Amberley was supposed to be working I'd catch her comparing linen samples or humming the musical options to herself. Surrounded by family and excitement, Amberley was entirely in her element.

"America's birthday really is perfectly timed," she sighed to my mother one afternoon in the Women's Room, "It'll be the perfect start to spring; colour and joy and new life."

A small smile crept across my lips. I was supposed to be focusing on my philanthropy project, which I was finally making headway with, but I always ended up getting roped into these conversations. The more Amberley talked about my birthday, the more excited I felt.

"I always thought the same thing," my mother sighed, stirring her tea wistfully, "We could never afford much in the way of celebrations, but the sprouting flowers and spring air would be gifts in themselves."

"It's a wonderful time of year," Amberley agreed with a warm smile, "Since Maxon's birthday is in late August, the celebrations always feel like our final burst of summer before everyone settles down into their work for autumn."

"If the Halloween Ball and coronation are anything to go by, I'm sure every palace celebration is incredible for some reason or another!" my mother giggled.

"They truly are; we're very blessed," Amberley replied, bowing her head humbly, "Although the planning can become quite the headache. I'm grateful for the company I've had recently."

"Well, lucky for you we're not going anywhere anytime soon!"

From the corner of my eye I saw the two women smile warmly at one another, sipping their tea companionably. Maxon and I's mothers were becoming friends, and it was simply perfect. Everything else in our lives may have been thrown into a fragile state of limbo, but if nothing else our little family was strong.

* * *

**Karategirl537 - PM sent :) Thanks!**

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	44. Dance Lessons

**Hi everyone! It's my dad's birthday today and I wasn't intending to write, but I couldn't resist. Unfortunately I've got to hurry away for family celebrations, so I can't reply to reviews individually, however I will say a big thank you to everyone who left one. As always, you make writing this fanfiction a delight, and I feel honoured that so many people are reading along!**

**Hope you enjoy Chapter 44...**

* * *

"It's not fair! Why can't I dance?" May moaned, collapsing onto the floor of the Great Room with a great, heaving sigh of impatience, "No matter how much I practice, I'm not getting any better."

Maxon smiled sympathetically and offered her his hand, helping her up to her feet, "We've only been doing it for twenty minutes! Don't lose faith - America still isn't great and she's been doing this far longer than you have."

My ears perked up at the mention of my name, and I shot him an annoyed look from where I was sat with Amberley, mom and Kenna, Astra wriggling in my arms, "Hey! I'm a fantastic dancer, I'll have you know!"

May snorted with laughter, and Maxon winked in my direction, calling, "Of course you are, darling. I was only encouraging your sister."

Gerad hit the button on the sound system and music filled the room again. Dancing didn't much interest him, unless it involved partnering with Nicoletta, who he'd developed a schoolboy crush on at the coronation. He'd decided to sit out of tonight's dancing lessons, instead perching on a table working the sound system, stuffing himself with sherbet candies from a crystal bowl beside him.

Maxon took May's hand, and placed his other hand on her waist, whilst she positioned her hand on his shoulder, and the pair of them attempted a waltz for the dozenth time. May had all of the energy and enthusiasm, but her feet simply weren't used to the motions. As Maxon led her around the room, they'd get tangled beneath her causing her to stumble.

The door cracked open, and my dad stepped inside. He'd spent yet another day in his studio, and although he'd changed into a clean linen shirt and a pair of light grey trousers, his hands were still stained with paint. He leaned in the doorway waiting for the song to finish, watching Maxon and May dance with a small smile. Maxon took the dance slow, doing everything he could to keep May steady, but she still looked nervous. After so many stumbles and trips, she was in a bit of a state.

However, this was her best attempt yet. Her feet were still a bit uncertain, but she was keeping up with Maxon, following his lead and focusing on the beat. I felt my lips pull up into a smile as I watched them spinning around the room together. Maxon was whispering encouragements, and May was beaming as the music came to an end. Everyone stood and clapped, and following Maxon's bow, May dipped into a curtsy.

"My turn!" Amberley sang, hurrying across the room to steal a dance with her son. Following her lead, Kenna and James and my mom and dad also made their way out onto the floor, leaving me with Astra; now that May had mastered the basics, it was time for everyone else to get some practice in.

"How was I?" May asked, collapsing beside me with pink cheeks.

I grinned, nudging her gently with my shoulder, "You were so good! Better than me, for sure."

"To be fair, Ames, that's not very hard," she teased, and I jokingly nudged her again.

"You and Maxon always gang up on me!" I sighed with a playful smile.

May stuck out her tongue, "It's not my fault he likes me more than you."

"You reckon?" I asked dryly, raising an eyebrow.

She shrugged in response, flashing a cheeky smile, "Sure. I reckon Maxon and I are best friends."

I simply rolled my eyes, then turned to watch the couples dancing around the room. Amberley had her head thrown back in laughter at something Maxon had just said, and the sight warmed my heart. He looked my way fleetingly and smiled.

"Since when are you so interested in dancing anyway?" I asked, to which May smiled coyly.

"I just... Really enjoyed the coronation."

I couldn't resist a smirk, "This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain pair of English twins, would it?"

May bit her lip with a smile. At first I thought she might deny it, but then her enthusiasm burst out of her, "Yes! They're both so cute. I mean, those eyes and that hair and those _accents_. Oh my God, Ames! Seth was so flirty and funny, and Alexander was so shy and sweet."

"You can't have them both!" I giggled, causing her to blush.

"I know," she sighed jokingly, "But do you think they liked me?"

I reached out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, shuffling Astra into one arm, "They'd be idiots if they didn't."

She smiled dreamily and and sank down in her seat, "I hope they can make it to your birthday ball, otherwise all this dancing will be for nothing."

"Well," I began thoughtfully, "If they don't make it to the ball, they might be at the Italian King and Queen's wedding anniversary."

Her eyebrows shot up curiously, "What?"

"We've both been invited to Italy for the reception," I announced with a grin, and May practically bounced off her chair in excitement.

"That's amazing, Ames!" she squealed, "We're going to have the best time."

Her enthusiasm was infectious, but at the back of my mind I couldn't help but remind myself that every moment May was in Illea, she was potentially in danger. At least when we visited Italy she'd be safe for a week.

The song drew to a close, and Amberley called me over, allowing me a dance with Maxon. Obediently passing Astra over to May, I hurried across the floor and slipped into Maxon's embrace. I'd become used to sharing a bed with him, but there was still an intimate excitement in dancing with him. I loved the subtle pressure of his hand on my hip, and the way he'd gradually pull me closer until our bodies were touching. Gerad cued up the next song, and before I knew it Maxon was leading me around the room.

"I'm not that bad at dancing, am I?" I asked pleadingly, widening my eyes in faux innocence.

Maxon laughed and dropped a light kiss on my lips, "Not at all. In fact, you're my favourite dance partner."

"I'd hope so."

"What were you and May talking about? She looks ready to explode."

My lips twisted into a half smile, "Prince Alexander and Prince Seth."

"Ah," Maxon chuckled, "Has she developed a bit of a crush?"

"You could say that," I sighed, "She's growing up so fast."

"She's a sweet girl. I'm sure she'll do very well in her new life," Maxon replied solemnly, smoothing his thumb against my hip.

Despite his outward positivity, I could tell that something was bothering him. He didn't sound as free as he usually did, "Maxon, did something happen today? You don't seem quite yourself."

He sighed deeply, tilting his head against mine, "I called on the Master of Records to see if he'd had any luck yet identifying the emblem on Braelyn's dagger. It's even more of a riddle that we'd initially anticipated."

Whilst this news was unsettling, I attempted to plaster on a reassuring smile, "We'll get there eventually."

"Eventually isn't good enough," he breathed, "The sooner I figure this out, the sooner all of you will be safe."

I hated to see him torturing himself like that. I pulled back, and placed a hand to his cheek, "Hey, stop saying _I _all the time. You're not alone in this; it's just as much my job to keep you safe as it if yours to protect mine."

He didn't look convinced, "America, I'm the _King. _It's my job to protect _everyone_."

Apparently there was no arguing with him tonight. He was simply in too dark of a place.

* * *

"What happened to her?" I asked, pressing my hand to the window of the infirmary. For some reason, they weren't letting me go in to see her yet.

"She's incredibly brave, that one," the head of the emergency response guard sighed, helmet still jammed under his arm, "We found a rebel safe house, and despite us suggesting she sit the mission out, she insisted on joining us. They recognised her the moment they saw her."

My eyes watered as I watched Braelyn through the glass, half a dozen nurses fussing around her. When she'd left for Whites, she'd insisted she'd be fine, yet she'd returned a bloody, beaten mess.

"You should have told us the moment they got their hands on her," I replied firmly, refusing to meet the officers eye.

"We had the situation under control, miss. There was no need to bother the crown."

"Under control?" I spat, pointing through the window at Braelyn's unconscious form, "You've a funny definition of that phrase, officer."

"We work by the book, miss," the officer replied bluntly, "Had we needed to contact you, we would have."

I still wasn't happy about the situation, and I let the world know by folding my arms sulkily across my chest, "At very least, did you have any luck finding out more about the branch of rebels?"

The officer raised a hand, pressing his fingers to the corner of his eye, "Yes, miss. We took a couple of the rebels for interrogation, and it seems that they're still set on somehow assassinating King Maxon."

Every nerve in my body froze, "Really? But why?"

The officer shrugged, "Their reasons seem vague at best, but the general gist seems to be that they think he'll be exactly like his father. They think a One will never be able to rule the country fairly, so they want to wipe the slate clean."

That was all I needed to hear. If it hadn't been urgent enough before that we bring the abolition forward, it was now. We had to prove to every branch of rebels out there that Maxon was _not _his father.

The stakes had been raised.


	45. A New Perspective

**A slightly different chapter today! Hopefully it's fairly self explanatory, but just to avoid any confusion the parts in italics are third person narrative telling us a little more about Braelyn's adventures on the mission to Whites.**

**I've ended up writing on my iPad again, so I'm afraid I can't reply to reviews individually, however as always I must say a huge thank you to everyone who left feedback - you make writing this story so exciting and fun!**

**Hope you enjoy chapter 45...**

* * *

_She paced back and forth in front of the locked door, her boots slapping against the damp concrete floor. When she'd agreed to come along on this mission, she'd had no idea the lengths that some of the Rebel Activity Committee were willing to go to in the name of stamping the rebels out. Behind the thick door she could hear Cawley, a man with thin lips and cold blue eyes, barking questions at a girl not much younger than herself who whimpered in response._

_When she'd first witnessed the committee's interrogation 'techniques', they'd turned her stomach. She'd stood in the corner of the room, frozen in the spot with gritted teeth as she watched hot nails being forced beneath the prisoner's fingernails until they agreed to answer the questions at hand. She'd recognised them; both had been members of the White's youth resistance group at the same time as her. A girl with thin blonde hair, and a boy covered from head to toe in freckles. She couldn't help but imagine being in their shoes. Had she not been Selected, there was every chance that she could have been being tortured in their place._

_The door swung open, and Cawley stepped through, dragging the girl behind him by the elbow. Braelyn's eyes swept down, and she saw blood dripping from the girl's savaged fingers. She managed not to flinch, instead taking the girl from Cawley, shooting him a disapproving look as she did._

_"King Maxon wouldn't like this."_

_Cawley turned and spat on the ground beside him, "What the King doesn't know won't hurt him - especially when it's in the name of saving him and that pretty fiancé of his."_

_Braelyn's heart twisted slightly at the mention of Maxon and America. She hated herself for it, but she still had feelings for him, and being reminded that he'd chosen America over her stung. She counted America amongst her dearest friends, but she knew she needed time to truly move on from her affections for the King._

_She led the poor, tortured girl down the corridor towards the cell where they were holding the handful of prisoners they'd taken from the youth group. When they reached the door, Braelyn placed a hand a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, and attempted an apologetic smile. The girl simply glared at her in return._

_As she walked back down the corridor towards the main room, she had to ball her hands into fists at her sides and fight the urge to turn and punch a wall. King Clarkson may have been exiled, but outside of the palace walls it seemed his influence was alive and well amongst certain committee members._

_Cawley and the rest of the Rebel Acticity Committee who'd made the journey to Whites waited in the main room for her, sat around a modest wood table. She walked loudly across the room, dragging her chair legs against the stone floor and falling it into it heavily, making her annoyance audible._

_"Come along now, Lady Braelyn. We all miss your pretty smile."_

_She shot Cawley a vicious look, but he simply grinned, thin lips pulling back to expose rows of unnaturally small, square teeth._

_"Right, onto business," he sighed, turning to the rest of the gathered committee, "We've finally had a breakthrough. The last girl spoke of a safe house where the local branch of rebels operate."_

_Murmurs broke out, and Braelyn felt strangely relieved; at least they could stop torturing teenagers now._

_"Did she know the whereabouts?" one woman asked._

_Cawley nodded smugly, "Indeed, and lucky for us it's not far from here."_

_"We should attack tonight," the head of the emergency response team announced, "Before they find out we intruded upon the youth group, otherwise they'll be expecting us."_

_General murmurs of agreement circled the room._

_"Then we're decided - we attack at nightfall. Naturally, the emergency response team will head out, but might it be worth sending a Rebel Activity Committee member along with them?"_

_The committee members looked between one another with clear reluctance. They had no way of knowing what could be waiting for them at the rebel safe house, and there was every chance that they would return without their lives. Braelyn took a moment to clear her throat._

_"I'll go," she announced, trying to look pulled together and strong._

_Cawley raised an eyebrow, "Is that wise, Lady Braelyn? Your's is a face they will undoubtedly remember."_

_"Exactly. If I get myself into a sticky situation I can convince them I'm playing double agent," she explained, laying her palms flat on the table, "Besides, I've dealt with these people before - I know how they operate."_

_A bout of hushed discussion followed, but the committee members didn't need much convinced. Before long, Cawley swept his files from the table with a firm nod, "Very good. Officer? Have Lady Braelyn kitted out for the mission."_

* * *

_As the van pulled up outside the safe house, Braelyn's first thought was that it didn't look particularly safe. Growing up as a Four, her family home had been far from grand, however the bungalow they'd parked up outside looked ready to collapse in a rotting heap. The wood was grey and waterlogged, and there was no evidence of power lines. One thing was clear; the occupants wanted to remain under the radar._

_Braelyn was kept right in the centre of the group, officers to every side of her. Her boots were even heavier than the ones she'd been issued for the trip, and in her hand she held a gun for the very first time - just in case. She could feel the cold metal through her gloves._

_One of the officers kicked down the door, and they flooded into the dark, dank house. The silence was deafening, and sent an electric thrill through Braelyn's veins._

_The officer behind her was taken out first, his feet snared from beneath him._

_Then it was her turn._

_A pair of rough hands clamped over her eyes and mouth, shocking the gun from her hands and dragging her back into a corner. As she was held firmly in place, all she could hear were screams, gunshots, and falling men. Her captor's mouth moved to her ear and whispered, "Braelyn Symons, you filthy deserter."_

_Something blunt hit the side of her head forcefully, and she blacked out._

* * *

"Braelyn?" I breathed, touching my palm to her bruised forehead. Finally, after so many hours of waiting, her eyelids fluttered open.

"You're awake!" I gasped, calling a nurse over and instructing her to inform Maxon immediately. Braelyn's eyes looked foggy, roaming around the room. I knew only too well how disconcerting it could be to wake up from a medicated sleep, so I gave her a few minutes to come to.

Braelyn's parched lips eventually opened, and she managed to croak, "Thirsty."

In an instant, one of the nurses was by my side, helping Braelyn sit up and hold a glass of water to her lips. It took her a few moments to get to grips with the glass, but once she did she drank thirstily.

"How do you feel?" I asked once she'd drunk her fill.

"Not great," she sighed, relaxing back into her pillows, "But glad to be home."

I couldn't help but smile when she referred to the palace as home. I took her hand gently, "I'm so sorry, this shouldn't have happened."

Braelyn chuckled weakly, "Don't be silly, it was my decision. The rebels are called rebels for a reason; they're unpredictable and dangerous. It was my mistake, thinking I could handle them."

My lips curled with an sad smile, and I simply took one of her hands between my own, carefully not to disturb any of the wires plugged into her skin. Her eyelids fell closed again, until we were disturbed by the opening doors a few minutes later. Maxon strode through, and I stood to meet him.

"They said she was awake?" He asked breathlessly, concern and excitement mingled in his expression.

"Yes," I replied eagerly, "She's still recovering, but at very least she's talking and drinking."

Maxon's smile mirrored my own, and we both settled down beside Braelyn's bed. As she set eyes on him, there was an emotion in her eyes that I couldn't quite read. Maxon, on the other hand, was brimming with unknown excitement. He clearly had news he was itching to deliver.

"The rest of the Rebel Activity Committee managed to capture the head of the rebel branch and apparently, now that he's settled down, he's willing to talk to us."

My eyes widened, "To us... Personally?"

Maxon nodded, "Apparently so. It seems they're more willing to talk to us directly than to an adviser. This could be the key; not only can we explore their intentions to kill me at the root, but they may also have connections to the Southern and Northern rebels that we can exploit."

Braelyn smiled slowly, a familiar warmth in her eyes when she looked at Maxon, "Well, I'm glad to hear that I didn't completely scupper the mission."

He looked down at her with a gentle sympathy, "Of course you didn't."

* * *

_Braelyn hated it when Maxon looked at her like that, like he still had romantic feelings for her somehow, burning somewhere deep inside of him. She spent every moment of every day trying to deny the way she felt about him, but when she spied that tenderness in his eyes it undid all of her progress. She desperately wanted to be happy for America, but at the same time she couldn't let go of the future she'd unwillingly imagined for herself, stood by Maxon's side._

_She'd never been the silly, lovesick sort of girl, yet there was something about Maxon Schreave that she simply couldn't let go._


	46. Interrogation

**First off, I am so incredibly jealous of those of you getting The One today! I have to wait another week for mine to be delivered because of where I live, so it's absolute torture knowing so many of you will be reading it today. Please, please, please refrain from posting any spoilers in your reviews. Thank you all so much, and I hope you all enjoy reading it! I'm certainly itching to get my hands on my copy.**

**I read the first ten chapters on the #unlocktheone page last night, and it's got me hungry for more. I'd forgotten just how much I love Kiera Cass's writing. As always she has taken all of my expectations and blown them out of the water - that woman is a goddess!**

**Anyway, sorry for the ramble! Hope you all enjoy Chapter 46...**

* * *

The cells where the rebels were being held were not nearly as comfortable as the one where I'd been kept during my short stay. They branched off a long, dark corridor, where your every footstep echoed coldly from the high walls. Whereas the door to my cell had been wood, the doors to these cells were made of unfriendly metal, with small windows allowing you to peer inside. A couple of rebel inmates pressed their faces to the windows as we passed, sneering in our direction. Maxon offered me his hand, and I willingly took it.

Ramsey seemed unphased by our surroundings as he led the way, simply stating, "We've got the leader in the interrogation room, your majesty. Some cretin called Septus. He's been quite demanding in regards to privacy, however it would be wise of you to have me in the room with you, at very least."

"Of course, Ramsey," Maxon replied bluntly. Although he held my hand tenderly, I could tell that he was in his official, regal mode.

Ramsey held the door open for us, and we stepped inside to discover Septus sat behind a metal table, upon which sat Braelyn's dagger in it's box. Despite his reputation, he looked exceptionally ordinary in his regulation blue shirt and trousers. He had short, dark hair, and a surprisingly fair, gentle face. He looked far younger than I'd anticipated.

As Maxon and I took our seats opposite him, he bowed his head with a smirk, "Your majesty, my lady, an honour to be in your presence."

Maxon frowned, "Is that so? I was under the impression you wanted me dead."

"Perhaps," Septus drawled, lowering his eyes in dark amusement, "But nonetheless, you are my sovereign, and one can only imagine the trouble I must be in to warrant being in your presence."

I hated how cocky he was; so confident and sure of himself, despite his dire situation. Maxon sensed how tense I felt, and took my hand beneath the table.

"We have a few questions for you," Maxon began coldly, "And it would behoove you to answer them truthfully."

Ramsey leaned back leisurely in the plastic chair, "By all mean, fire away, your grace."

"You want me dead - why?"

The man's lips pulled into a half smile, "We have enough eyes in the palace to know that your father was quite the monster, and the apple never falls far from the tree. People like you are not fit to rule - Illea deserves a clean slate."

My free hand curled around the edge of the table in aggravation, "Maxon is nothing like his father."

Septus's eyebrows shot up; apparently he hadn't been expecting me to speak. To my utter disgust, he looked pleasantly surprised by my outburst.

"My lady," he sighed, addressing me directly, "I'm sure you've been kept in a comfortable little bubble during your time at the palace - I doubt you knew what King Clarkson was truly capable of, and furthermore, I'd wager you don't know your boyfriend nearly as well as you think you do."

I ground my back teeth together in anger, "I'm entirely aware of what Clarkson was capable of. I'd show you my scars, but quite frankly I don't need to prove myself to someone like you."

This seemed to genuinely surprise him. He nodded his head thoughtfully, taking his time before replying, "My apologies, Lady America. Maybe you're not as clueless as one would assume."

"She's anything but clueless," Maxon growled. I squeezed his hand beneath the table, willing him to calm down. Septus wasn't worth his anger.

"Colour me intrigued, Lady America," Septus continued, ignoring Maxon completely, "But what makes you say that Maxon is nothing like his father?"

I took a deep breath, "Maxon is a good person, through and through, and he's smart enough to know a corrupt person when he encounters one. He grew up in the shadow of a tyrant, and because of that he strives to be everything his father wasn't. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, but Maxon is like his mother, not his father. He's every bit as gracious and strong and kind as Queen Amberley."

Septus took a moment to digest this, before placing his palms flat on the table, "Interestingly, there are those amongst us who have faith in King Maxon, especially now that you're by his side. Maybe they're wiser than we give them credit for."

"Maybe," I spat, leaning back in my chair and putting as much distance between me and this rebel leader as possible.

"Next question," Maxon sighed, drawing attention to the dagger sat on the table, "Who does the emblem on this box belong to? And why did you want the owner to be blamed for my death?"

Septus smirked, "Ahh, so it's true; Lady Braelyn really did sell us out."

"Answer the question," Maxon growled.

"Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't manage to puzzle it out yourselves. It's the emblem on the Lysander family. At the time of Illea's conception, they were one of the wealthiest and most notable families in the country, however they refused to swear fealty to Gregory Illea. He stripped them of their titles and riches and made them Eights. They were amongst the first generation of rebels."

Maxon frowned, "Gregory Illea must have had their records and emblems struck from the official records when they were stripped of their titles."

"Yes," Septus murmured, a knowing smile tickling the corners of his lips, "It would seem your ancestor had quite the knack for rewriting history."

I squirmed in my chair; as much as I hated Septus for planning to kill Maxon, I couldn't deny that I shared a lot of his opinions and values.

"What do you know of Northern and Southern rebel activity? Why did you start your own branch, instead of affiliating with either of the big established parties?"

Septus sank back in his chair, crossing his wiry legs, "The Northerners' tactics are a little ineffective for our liking. We appreciate their desire for change, but they seem unwilling to really demand it beyond trying to steal a few books and making the odd empty threat. We're more in tune with the Southern rebels, but their bloodlust concerns us. We don't want to slaughter hundreds of guards and innocents, hence our plan with Lady Braelyn. Yes, we wanted you dead, but we didn't want to waste lives in the process. We feel that the Southern rebels ultimate goals have become blurred, and if they did come to power, we question their capabilities to handle the country."

"We haven't been attacked by the Southerners as frequently recently - why?" Maxon continued. Septus seemed to have turned on the tap, and Maxon intended to reap every piece of information he could.

Septus shrugged, "Have you ever heard the phrase 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend'? If nothing else, every rebel party is united by their desire for change. The Northern rebel party has more support than the Southern, and when the Northerners asked them to cease their attacks for the time being, they were wise enough to listen."

Maxon's lips thinned in concern, "How can we assure that they don't resume their attacks?"

Septus shrugged again, "That's the easy part; marry her, or announce the abolition of the caste system - that's our joint goal, ultimately."

* * *

Maxon and I slept in his bed that night, however neither of us was really sleeping. Despite it being the early hours of the morning, we were both just lying there, too wrapped up in Septus's words to let our minds truly switch off. Eventually I rolled over, hooking one of my legs over Maxon's and resting my head on his chest.

"Are you awake?" I murmured, tracing my fingers across his perfect skin.

He sighed deeply, folding one of his arms around me, "Yes."

"What's on your mind?"

"The abolition of the caste system - as always. I need to think of a tactful way of bringing it forward, without upsetting the upper castes."

I frowned, "Didn't we decide on hosting a special Report, selling it's benefits to them?"

"Yes," he murmured, "But the problem is, I can't think of any sound benefits."

We lay in silence for a few minutes, until I couldn't bear the tension any more. I pulled myself upright, so that I was straddling his hips. Smiling down at him, I playfully sang, "Right. Neither of us is going to sleep at this rate, so let's take our mind off things."

Maxon's hands roamed beneath my nightgown, holding my hips firmly. He smiled wolfishly and replied, "How do you propose we do that, Miss Singer?"

A blush crept across my cheeks, flames burning slowly in the pit of my stomach at the feeling of his hands on my skin, "Haven't you any ideas of your own, my king?"

"Oh, hundreds... But none would be appropriate until we're married."

I bit my lip, "Then marry me."

"America..." Maxon replied, his tone warning.

"Sorry," I sighed, tracing my fingers from his chest to his defined hipbones, "I'm just impatient."

My touch coaxed a resonating growl from his throat, and his hands moved from my hips to my waist, his fingers pressingly longingly into my skin, "Believe me, America, you're not the only one whose patience is wearing thin."

I took a moment to revel in his touch, then without really thinking I said, "I don't want to wait anymore."

"But it's not the done thing," Maxon sighed, although I could tell he craved that intimacy just as much as I did.

"You're the _king_," I giggled, leaning forward and trailing kisses across his chest, "You make the rules."

Another guttural growl escaped his throat, however this time he rolled over in one swift movement so that he was the one pinning me to the bed. He caught my wrists in his hands, pressing them into the mattress, "Don't tempt me. Consider this an exercise in royal patience. For now, I'm sure there are plenty of other ways we can pass the time..."

* * *

**ilona18 - Braelyn is a tough little thing. She'll figure things out!**

**GrizzlyBear22 - Thank you so much for reading!  
**

**Olivia - That's so sweet! Thank you so much.  
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**legeorge02 - I'm glad you're enjoying it! Thank you.  
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**

**prnamber3909 - Hopefully she'll realise it's very unlikely to happen!**

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**Grizzlybear23 - I'm glad you enjoyed Braelyn's perspective. I enjoyed writing it :)  
**

**WinteryRose - How exciting! I honestly can't believe that!**

**Basedonthosebooks - I definitely want to give her a happy ending of some sort!**

**DaughterofSea - Hopefully you liked the little bit of Maxerica in this chapter!**

**Athenachild101 - I hope she gets a 'special someone' too :)**

**Dhenn618 - Next up is America's birthday ball, then it's time for the sequel!**

**dauntlesstribute46 - I believe the third book came out today!**

**known as divergent - Braelyn was on the rebels side, but then she came around :) Glad you're enjoying it!**

**legeorge02 - Same, I love their friendship! Thank you.  
**

**Kaminator - Haha, The Confuser is hanging in there!  
**


	47. Preparation

**Apologies for the slightly shorter chapter today! I've had a busy couple of days, but I wanted to give you something! There's only three chapters left, but I promise you they will be chock full of action and excitement. **

**Hope you enjoy Chapter 47...**

* * *

I tapped my pen impatiently against my file. It was the final meeting before my birthday ball, and I wanted nothing more than to hurry over to Amberley's office so I could help her, my mom and Kenna plan all of the finishing touches. Maxon stood at the head of the table, encouraging the advisers to share any ideas they had regarding how to sell the abolition of the caste system to the upper castes. Sadly, I had nothing to offer. I'd spent all my life as a Five - how could I possibly imagine what went on in the heads of Twos and Threes?

Regardless, it was my job to sit there and listen. My philanthropy project was now to simply help get the abolition off the ground, which meant I had to endure every one of these meetings, no matter how useless I felt. I couldn't wait for the Report to be out of the way so we could focus on _actually_ progressing with things.

However, whether I liked it or not, we had to get the upper castes on side. If they decided to turn against us, they had more than enough money and power between them to overthrow the crown. We _needed _their support.

"Perhaps," one woman piped up, "We could stress the point that people will no longer be seen as simply numbers, but they will be recognised for what the actually _do_."

Maxon shook his head thoughtfully, "That's all well and good, but I'm afraid many Twos and Threes live incredibly leisurely lives. There's not much for them to recognised for."

"Maybe," another man chipped in, "We could make the point that there will no longer be any barriers; a man may reap glory and wealth in whatever way he desires. He may completely reinvent himself."

"I'm not sure if that will work," Maxon sighed, "The upper castes will translate that as 'the lower castes will have the ability to steal our position and money'."

I continued tapping my pen against my file, and found myself thinking about Gerad and his old microscope. Ever since he'd come to the palace, he'd spent his days in the library, spinning globes and reading encyclopedias and absorbing every piece of knowledge he found.

I cleared my throat, "Maybe we should stress the possibility of new scientific and economic talents coming to our attention? Undoubtedly there are hundreds of great minds trapped in the lower castes, and without the caste system, we'll be able to reap their talents. Our medical care will improve, as will our economic climate. We'll make leaps and bounds in technology, which we'll be able to use in trade with other countries. It'll make Illea far more prosperous."

Maxon grinned in my direction, "Now there's something we can work with."

* * *

"And you're sure you don't want to celebrate in the Great Room?" Amberley asked as she shuffled place settings and receipts through her fingers.

I nodded with a soft smile, "Absolutely. The orangery will be perfect."

It hadn't even occurred to me that the orangery could be used for events until Maxon had taken me there for a picnic dinner one night. We'd laid out a blanket on the floor, and feasted on wine and grapes and cheeses whilst gazing up at the stars through the intricate glass ceiling. We couldn't have a ball in the garden for security reasons, but with it's vast windows and beautiful roof, the orangery felt close enough.

"I know it's last minutes," I suddenly began, my head spinning with ideas, "But could we fill the trees and bushes outside with fairy lights? I want people to feel like they're right there in the gardens."

Amberley smiled fondly, "That's definitely doable. Perhaps we could even have real trees moved into the corners of the room."

"That sounds utterly magical," my mother agreed, "However will it match the colour scheme?"

Kenna and I exchanged a glance. Since she was the most visually artistic among us, she'd taken the lead with aesthetics. She held up a mood board and said, "I think so. The seafoam green and light grey colour scheme is fairly muted. If anything the added greenery will give it a bit more life."

Amberley clapped her hands together, "Then it's decided! I'll call for the gardeners after lunch."

She opened yet another file, and passed it around the group, "The RSVPs have been flooding in. It seems that half the world is delighted by the idea of celebrating the future Queen's birthday!"

My cheek's flushed pink. Amberley was such a wonderful queen, and I still didn't think myself worthy of inheriting her title. The guest list arrived in my lap, and I scanned it for familiar names. To my relief, both the Italians and the English would be attending.

"Do you know what you'll be wearing yet, Ames?" Kenna asked eagerly.

I shook my head, "I've not the slightest clue - ask my maids!"

All three women laughed. My maids had become somewhat famous for their designs, and apparently offers were flooding in from wealthy Twos and Threes, willing to pay thousands upon thousands for one of their pieces. I'd heard that dressmakers across the country were being inundated with requests for replicas of the dress I'd worn to Maxon's coronation. The thought made me laugh; I was possibly the most unlikely fashion icon in history.

I continued scanning the guest list, and my heart twisted in my chest when I saw a block of familiar names - the rest of the Elite had been invited.

My head sprang up, "Did we have to invite the rest of the Elite?"

Amberley frowned, "It's etiquette, America. If it's Celeste you're worried about, I can assure you she's made a public apology for her behaviour, and I hear she's made quite the turnaround."

"I'm sure she has..." I muttered, causing my mother to swiftly swat me on the arm.

"Play nice, America," she whispered.

Truth be told, it wasn't Celeste I was worried about - it was Kriss. We hadn't parted on the best terms, and part of me knew that she wouldn't give up on Maxon until the day he said 'I do'. During the Selection she'd shown that behind that sweet face was a girl who was willing to play dirty when it came to getting what she wanted. I knew we'd have to see each other again eventually, but I hated the idea of her being at my birthday ball.

"Trust me America," Amberley began, her tone reassuring, "There will be so many guests in attendance that you won't have the time to properly talk to most of them."

I bit my lip, unconvinced, "If you're sure."

She flashed a comforting smile, "Maxon will be with you every step of the way. It's your night, and you won't have to share him anyone."

* * *

**Karategirl537 - Wow, that's high praise! However you've now got me worried about reading The One!**

**maggiebswim - I can't wait to read it so I can finally talk about it with all of you!**

**prnamber3909 - Things did get a little heated there! They're a well behaved couple though ;)**

**d12t4eva - My copy is due to arrive on the 13th or 14th, so I feel your pain!**

**Sarasmile247 - I just Googled UnlockTheOne and I found the site :)**

**ilona18 ****- I'm glad you're interested in the caste system theme. I always worry people would rather I skip to the fluff and drama!**

**Basedonthosebooks - Oh my gosh. I cry at everything, so I won't stand a chance!**

**DaughterofSea - I'm glad you liked the balance! I was worried people might find the interrogation boring.**

**Elizabeth1401 - Thank you! Eeek, I can't wait to read it!**

**Athenachild101 - Don't be sorry! I honestly can't wait to read it!**

**Guest - What a lovely review! Thank you so much. **

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**zeldafanatic0555 - Oh my gosh, you've got me even more excited to read it!**

**Alexandra - That's honestly so sweet. Thank you so much!**

**Guest - You've got me intrigued! I can't wait to read it and see if any of it lines up with my story :)**


	48. The Birthday Ball

**Hi everyone! I'm stuck in bed today as I'm sick, but I really wanted to get this chapter written! It's the longest chapter yet, however I'm now being nagged to rest up and go back to sleep so I can't reply to reviews individually today. As always, thank you so much for your support and feedback. You guys truly are the best. I hope you all enjoy these final few chapters!**

* * *

"Mary, can I have more makeup please?"

May had spent the past hour trying to make herself look about four years older than she really was. She'd spied Prince Alexander and Prince Seth arriving earlier in the afternoon, and she'd been completely frantic ever since. Whilst our mother was pushing for a more age appropriate look, May wanted to look every bit as glamorous and grown up as I did.

Mary chuckled fondly, and obligingly pressed a little powder to May's nose, "I think you're wearing quite enough now, miss. Your mother will have a fit if she comes back to find you covered in red lipstick and eyeliner!"

"Just a little lipstick, please?" May begged, puckering her lips.

"You're already wearing lip gloss, you silly goose!" Mary gasped in jovial exasperation, "Now settle down and let Anne finish your hair."

Albeit reluctantly, May settled down beside me. We'd moved the piano stool to the dressing table so that we could have our hair and makeup done together, and I relished the girly atmosphere, especially with my mom and Kenna dropping in from time to time to get feedback on their own hair and makeup.

My mother had already had her hair restyled three times when she strutted inside with a polished chignon at the nape of her neck.

"I think this is the style for me!" she announced, doing a twirl for all of us. We all oohed and ahhed obediently, desperate for her to finally decide on a style.

"You look beautiful, ma'am," Lucy said with a sweet smile, and we all murmured our agreements.

Her cheeks flushed pink, and she raised her hands to her face in excitement, "Do you really think so?"

May and I laughed, and I confirmed, "You look every bit as lovely as Queen Amberley, mom."

That seemed to appease her, as she finally hurried off to put on her dress. Time was pressing on, and before long our own dresses were being pulled from the armoire, sheathed in their usual garment bags.

"No peeking!" Lucy warned, so May and I closed our eyes, allowing the maids to guide us into our dresses and fasten them for us. We were shepherded over to the full length mirror, where we were finally allowed to see our finished looks.

I looked at May first; she was a vision in airy mint green. The dress had elbow length sleeves, and nipped in at her tiny waist before flowing elegantly to the floor. The light fabric was completely covered with tiny, ruffled roses, and it seemed to have an iridescent sheen wherever it caught the light. Her hair was pulled into a curly ponytail that swept over her shoulder, and she wore a crown of blue fabric roses that matched the ones on her dress. She looked the most grown up I'd ever seen her, but at the same time there was a fairytale youthfulness to her look.

I placed a fond hand on her shoulder and breathed, "You look truly beautiful, May."

She simply shook her head in response, eyes wide in delight, "Not as beautiful as you, Ames."

Turning to observe my own dress, I was once again blown away by my maids handiwork. My dress was empire line, and had a high neck with long, transparent sleeves, much like the dress I'd worn at Maxon's coronation. Unlike the coronation dress, this one was a delicate blush pink, that made my pale skin look beautifully porcelain and my hair more fiery than ever. It was covered in embellishments; twists of diamonds, scattered pearls, and little organza flowers clustered around the waistline. At the hem of the organza skirt, clouds of flowers and bigger clusters of diamonds moved elegantly with every step I took.

It reminded me of the fairies in a play I'd once read - _A Midsummer Night's Dream_.

They'd left my hair falling naturally, simply enhancing a few curls and placing a diamond headband that was somewhat reminiscent of the tiara Maxon had given me on top of my head. My makeup also looked natural and polished; whilst there was no obvious lipstick or eye makeup, my skin glowed.

Amberley had been right; whilst this ball was perhaps an extravagance, it was just what I needed right now. This feeling encompassed everything that was rewarding and exciting about life as a royal.

* * *

Maxon and I swept into the room together, and a glass of champagne was in my hand within moments. All of our planning had paid off, and the orangery looked spectacular. The intricate glass ceiling and vast windows were enough of a statement in themselves, however the seafoam green and light grey colour scheme effortlessly enhanced them. True to her word, Amberley had organised for real trees to be brought in and arranged in every corner, their branches heavy with fairy lights. Through the windows, we could see similar fairy lights wound through all of the trees and foliage, floating in the dark night.

I always felt a little out of my depth when making small talk with dignitaries, but it was far less intimidating when I was on Maxon's arm. I'd met most of them before, and Maxon kindly whispered each of their names in my ear as they approached, just in case I'd forgotten them. We made a good team.

Shortly before dinner, Maxon excused himself, claiming there was something he had to see to quickly. I'd noticed a group of the old Selected in one corner of the room, and I thought it might be best to approach them alone. There was no need to tastelessly dangle Maxon in front of them now that I'd won.

Strangely, Celeste was the first to greet me. Upon seeing me approach she side-stepped out of the group, dragging a tall, lean man behind her. Her glamorous navy blue dress was cut to the thigh, and her lips were painted red as they ever were.

"America," she drawled, "Happy birthday."

"Erm... Thanks, Celeste," I choked awkwardly, "Technically it's not my birthday until midnight, but thanks anyway."

"Sure," Celeste sighed dismissively, clearly not listening to a word I was saying, "Anyway, this is Marcel, my fiancé."

I looked up at the achingly tall man on Celeste's arm. His cheekbones and jawline were chiseled, and his chocolate brown hair perfectly combed back. Beneath heavy, groomed brows, his grey eyes sparkled as he grinned boyishly in my direction.

"A pleasure," I murmured, after realising I'd been staring a moment too long.

Marcel bowed his head, "The pleasure is all mine, Lady America."

"Marcel is a model too," Celeste gloated, stroking his arm, "He's signed by the same agency as me, so we've worked together before. His family are one of the wealthiest in Clermont. Isn't my engagement ring darling? He let me pick it out myself."

She flashed her slender hand, and sure enough an obnoxiously large diamond glittered on her ring finger.

"Congratulations," I murmured, forcing a smile. The whole encounter was making me feel uncomfortable; why was Celeste being so conversational all of a sudden?

I spotted Kriss peering over at us from behind Celeste, and I waved her over, eager for some form of escape. Kriss and I may not have been on best terms when we'd parted ways, but I hoped we'd be able to rekindle some form of friendship now that she'd had time to cool down.

"Kriss!" I called with a smile as she approached, a dark haired man following behind her, "How have you been?"

"I've been good, thank you. It's been nice to see my friends again. Happy birthday, by the way."

"Thanks," I replied with an uncertain giggle, then I gestured to her date and asked, "Who's this?"

Kriss's mouth popped open as if she'd almost forgotten the man following behind her like some besotted puppy, "Oh, this is Damian. He's my... Well. He and I... We- We've been dating."

I assumed by her awkwardness that things weren't going quite so smoothly as Celeste's relationship with Marcel, and she'd brought him along purely for appearances. Nonetheless, I smiled in his direction and said, "Lovely to meet you, Damian."

He flashed a sweet smile, obviously relieved that someone was finally talking to him, "Lovely to meet you too, Lady America. Kriss has told me so much about you."

_Oh boy_, I thought to myself, _that can't be good_.

To my relief, the dinner call was made. I curtsied briefly and dismissed myself with an awkward, "Looks like it's time to eat! I'll see you all later."

* * *

I was sat between Maxon and my mother, however I'd barely had time to finish my desert when Maxon coaxed me to my feet, explaining it was time to do our rounds. If there was one part of these balls that I could skip, it would be that. I'd already greeted most of the people in the room, and whilst it was nice to drop by on some of them for a brief chat, I hated that we were expected to make awkward small talk with _everyone _present.

Nonetheless, it was nice to catch up with some familiar faces. Nicoletta beamed when she saw us heading over, and her parents looked just as happy to see us. I thanked them for the invitation to their anniversary party, but they brushed it off, insisting they were simply looking forward to showing me their country.

The English were just as familiar and friendly. Prince Alexander asked me how May was, which made me smile - she'd be over the moon when I told her.

In comparison, visiting the Elite's tables was acutely awkward. We were joined by the original Elite, along with the final final few girls from the new Selected. Posie, Rain and Elena all got to their feet and embraced me like we were old friends, whilst Alyssa remained in her seat, toying with the stem of her wine glass. Even though most of them had brought dates, I spotted a number of the girls staring longingly in Maxon's direction when they thought I wasn't looking. Kriss was among them, and noticed me watching her. Our eyes met in a moment of unspoken tension, before she forced herself to look away.

I tightened my hold on Maxon's arm.

"Where's Braelyn got to?" I asked, realising her seat was empty.

Alyssa, who'd been sat beside her, simply shrugged, "I don't know. She just went."

Posie was a little more helpful, "She left about halfway through the last course - she seemed a bit emotional. She probably went to straighten herself up."

"I see," I replied thoughtfully, before releasing my grip on Maxon's arm and turning to him with a smile, "Excuse me a moment."

"Don't be too long," he replied, holding my elbow gently, "I'll miss you."

I followed the route to the ladies' bathroom, keeping an eye out for Braelyn as I went. I heard her before I saw her - a strangled, muffled sound coming from a nearby service stairwell. I felt along the wall for the latch, and allowed myself inside. Sure enough, Braelyn was curled up on the stairs, lit by the dim lights, tears marring her pretty face and dropping onto the bodice of her purple taffeta dress.

"Braelyn?"

Her head snapped up when she heard my voice, and she instantly wiped the tears from her face, trying to straighten herself out, "America?"

I shot her a sympathetic smile, curling up on the stair beneath her, "Posie mentioned you disappeared halfway through dinner."

"I didn't think I'd be missed," she sighed, wrapping her arms around her knees.

"Well I missed you," I laughed lightly, "I need you to keep me sane at these things."

She shuffled uncomfortably, and breathed, "Yes, well... You have Maxon now."

I felt my eyebrows creep up my forehead, "What's that supposed to mean."

"What do you think?" she barked, her voice still thick with tears, "God, America. You're sweet, but you sure are thick sometimes."

"I don't understand," I replied, confusion written all over my face.

Braelyn ran both of her hands over her head, smoothing her hair back in place, "You know I have feelings for Maxon. Hell, I've never loved anyone before so I don't have anything to compare it with, but I think I might be in love with him. When he chose you, it was Kriss everyone was worried about. Everyone thought she'd be a complete wreck, but what about me? What about cold, dry, clever Braelyn? Was I supposed to just bounce back? I love my job with the Rebel Activity Committee, and I love living at the palace, and I want to be your friend, but I'm not ready for all this yet. You need to give me some time."

I felt my heart sink, but nonetheless I whispered, "I can give you time."

"Thank you," she sighed, "Tonight's been the tipping point. I think I might go back to Whites for a while - give myself time to heal."

"If that's what you have to do."

"Will you talk to Maxon for me?" she asked, eyes wide.

"Of course I will."

* * *

I walked back to the orangery in a daze, Braelyn's words knocking around in my head. I'd never realised her feelings for Maxon ran so deep. I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts, that I was almost knocked clean off my feet when I walked straight into a man's shoulder.

"Oh my God," I gasped, straightening myself out, "I'm so sorry, Sir. I don't know where my head is tonight."

"Quite alright, Lady America."

I glanced up to discover Marcel smirking down at me. _He must be pretty stupid to get engaged to Celeste, _I thought to myself as I observed him, _but he sure is handsome_. Shaking my head slightly, I reprimanded myself for looking at another man in that light.

"Can I help you, Marcel?" I asked, realising we'd been stood in silence for a moment too long, "Are you lost?"

"Not at all," he laughed, running a hand through his hair so that the neat style became suddenly disheveled, "Just taking it all in."

With that final sentence, his eyes moved down the entire length of my body, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I was all but engaged to his king - how _dare _he look at me like that.

"The stories Celeste told me about you always made me smile. Don't tell her, but you were my favourite in the Selection. It's a shame you're stuck with King Maxon now, eh?"

I frowned, "I don't think so. I'm quite content with Maxon."

"Quite content?" Marcel chuckled, shaking his head, "I think we can do better than that, Lady America."

Before I could register his movements, he was bowing his head and moving his lips towards mine. He'd managed to get me backed against a wall, his arms firmly planted either side of me. Taking advantage of my surprise, he landed the kiss squarely on my lips, but I refused to reciprocate. I tried to wriggle away, but Marcel was so much bigger than me, and so much stronger. When I tried to call for help, he secured a hand over my mouth, and began pressing kisses to my neck and shoulders instead.

I felt disgusting.

He only stopped when he was interrupted by a familiar giggle at the end of the corridor. I turned my head as much as I could to discover Celeste leaning against the wall, a small camera in her hand. I'd seen enough of Maxon's cameras to know that when the red light was on, it was filming.

_She'd filmed Marcel kissing me_.

"Good show," she laughed, clapping her hands and letting the camera fall slack on a string around her wrist, "Maxon is just going to _love_ this."


	49. The Garden

**Hi everyone! Before anything else, I just wanted to clear something up about the last chapter. A couple of people mentioned rape in their reviews, and I wanted to assure you that Marcel's attack was nothing quite that serious. Pretty much, it was just supposed to be enough to incriminate America (i.e. Kissing another man). Whilst I totally understand why some people do address rape in their Fanfictions, I can assure you it's not a theme I would undertake lightly, and certainly not one I would bring up with only two chapters to go! I apologise sincerely if that scene upset or unsettled anyone.**

**Anyway, this is the penultimate chapter! I hope you all enjoy it...**

* * *

I tried my hardest to pull away from Marcel, but he kept me firmly in place as Celeste taunted me with the camera. She approached us slowly, swaying her hips smugly as she walked. Once by our side, she placed a fond hand on Marcel's arm.

"Very nicely done."

Marcel grinned, "Thank you, Lady Celeste."

"You'd better go," she sighed, "I wouldn't want to be in your position when Maxon sees this. Put as much space between you and the palace as possible. Get on the first train out of Angeles."

"My payment?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Celeste rolled her eyes, and stuffed a thick envelope into his hand. Without another word, he turned and hurried away, finally freeing me.

"You're despicable," I hissed at Celeste, rubbing the life back into my arm where Marcel had been grasping it.

"Me? Despicable?" Celeste laughed disbelievingly, "Don't act like you haven't been playing exactly the same game that I have."

"What?" I demanded incredulously.

"You were desperate for the crown from the moment you got here. It was all about the money for you; you wanted to be able to look after yourself and that rotten Five family of yours."

"I'm nothing like you," I spat, "I _love_ Maxon."

Celeste tossed her hair over her shoulder, moving to tuck the camera away in her clutch bag, "Sure you do, America."

My blood boiled in my veins. Would Celeste's nonsense ever cease? I caught her by the wrist, trying desperately to wrestle the camera from her grasp. She shrieked in response, doing everything she could to pull away from me.

"You're an _animal_," she hissed, tearing the camera away from me and holding it out of my reach, "You're not fit to marry a King."

I was preparing to attack her again when we were interrupted by a voice at the end of the corridor. Both of our heads snapped in the same direction, and I felt a strange wave of uneasy relief as Aspen strode towards us with two other guards flanking him, his lips set in an incredibly straight, serious line.

"Lady Celeste, will you please hand over the camera," he demanded authoritatively.

Celeste's eyes widened, "And why on Earth should I do that?"

Aspen took a measured breath, "Lady Celeste, our security cameras saw everything. We intercepted your partner as he was leaving the palace, and he is being taken to a secure unit. Now, I must ask you to hand over the camera."

"I'll do nothing of the sort," she hissed, "Not until King Maxon has seen it."

Aspen made a small motion with his hand, and the two other guards caught Celeste by the shoulders, forcing her to hand the device to Aspen. He observed it from all angles, before letting it fall carelessly onto the carpet. It was such a small thing that he was able to crush is completely beneath the heel of his boot.

He instructed the other guards to take her to the secure unit, and Celeste shrieked and argued every step of the way. Once she was out of sight, Aspen took one of my hands, "I'm so sorry, America. I saw what they did, and... Well, I'll make sure personally that they pay for their crimes. Would you like us to go and inform the King?"

I gave my heart a few seconds to slow down before replying, "Thank you, but no. I'll tell him after the ball. I know what he's like..."

"I understand," Aspen replied with a nod, "Rest assured, they will pay for this."

I pulled him into a brief hug, "Thank you, Aspen."

* * *

Although my heart rate had returned to normal, I was still shaking. I picked up the first glass of champagne I saw, but accidentally spilled a few drops on my skirt. Thankfully, the liquid was pretty much clear, but I still felt like a klutz. Before I could do any more damage to myself or others, I found a seat at the side of the room, watching the dancers circling the floor. I was looking for Maxon, but before I found him I saw May dancing with Prince Alexander. Her dancing lessons had paid off, and she looked so elegant and beautiful. I watched them for a while, giving myself a chance to calm down.

I didn't notice that someone had taken a seat beside me until they cleared their throat. I swiftly turned my head and discovered Nicoletta, sat beside me with a wide smile. When she spotted the uneasiness in my eyes, her lips fell.

"America, what is wrong?"

"Nothing, Nicoletta," I sighed, patting one of her hands appreciatively, "It's all just a bit overwhelming."

She laughed freely, "Well, I suppose your first royal ball in your honour must be quite overwhelming! I forget you are still new to this."

A small, beaded clutch rested in her lap, and she began to root around inside it, extracting a blue velvet box. She placed it in my hand with a knowing smile, and I lifted it tentatively.

"Here, a birthday gift from my parents and I. Go on, open it!"

I popped the box open, and inside sat six blue cameos on an elegant gold chain. Nicoletta lifted it from the velvet, and secured it around my wrist.

"It's beautiful," I breathed, lifting the cameos to the light and observing them more closely.

"They're handmade by a woman in our city," she explained, "My mother and I both have dozens of bracelets and necklaces_ and_ earrings made by her, so I thought you might like something of hers too!"

Despite how sick I still felt after Marcel's assault, a genuine smile crept across my lips, and I pulled my friend into a tight hug, "It's perfect - thank you."

Nicoletta was practically bouncing in her seat, "You must wear it when you come to Italy!"

"I will," I promised, before turning my eyes to discover Maxon watching me from across the room. I excused myself, and went over to him, attempting to look calm and composed. Evidently, Maxon wasn't convinced.

"What's wrong?" he asked the moment I was by his side.

I shook my head, hoping he wouldn't press the matter, "Nothing important, I'll explain later."

"America..." Maxon whispered, his forehead creasing in concern.

I pressed up onto my toes and kissed his cheek, "Trust me, Maxon. Shall we dance?"

He still looked unconvinced, but he was happy to oblige, leading me out onto the dance floor and holding me close. Leaning my head against his chest, I tried to forget everything that had happened with Celeste and Marcel. As much as I wanted to leave it behind my, I could still feel his hands on my arms, and his mouth on my neck. I pressed myself closer to Maxon in an attempt to push away all of those awful memories.

Sensing my discomfort, Maxon ducked his head to my ear and whispered, "Would you like to go outside and get some air?"

I nodded eagerly, and allowed him to guide me towards the tall orangery doors.

* * *

I couldn't believe how warm it felt for a February night. The air still felt refreshingly cool after the heat of the orangery, but when Maxon offered me his suit jacket I declined, perfectly comfortable with the thin sleeves of my dress for warmth. I tucked my hand into the crook of his elbow, and we walked through the fairy light laden trees and hedges surrounding the orangery. We passed the odd guard, but they were happy to avert their eyes. It was a clear night, and whilst the fairy lights twinkled around us, the stars twinked above us.

"Will you please tell me what's wrong?" Maxon sighed, and I felt my disposition start to crumble.

"Celeste," I sighed, pressing myself closer to Maxon's side, "Up to her old tricks."

Maxon tensed up beside me, "What did she do?"

I shook my head, "Please, Maxon, let's not talk about her now. I'm not letting her ruin our night."

Gracious as ever, Maxon conceded. I'd assumed we were simply wandering an aimless route around the gardens, however as Maxon led me around a final corner we discovered a small yet ornate bandstand, covered in the same fairy lights that filled the trees. Maxon noticed the smile growing on my face, and ushered me forward. With a sudden burst of euphoria, we both raced up the steps, and collapsed against one of the railings together in fits of giggles.

"This is beautiful," I breathed, lacing my fingers through Maxon's, "How have I never seen this part of the gardens before?"

Maxon shrugged, standing behind me and gently winding his arms around my waist, "You underestimate just how large the palace grounds are. Besides, I always thought this part looked best at night anyway, especially when the orangery is all lit up."

I turned the other way for a moment to see what he meant, and sure enough the orangery looked beautiful, it's glass ceiling and tall, arched windows glowing with soft, welcoming light.

"I still can't believe I'm lucky enough to live here."

"I still can't believe I'm lucky enough to have you living here," Maxon teased.

I was about to swat him playfully on the arm, but he caught my wrist and guided it back down to my side. His eyes softened, and my heart turned to warm honey, as it tended to do in his presence. Every movement he made was tantalizingly slow and purposeful, until his lips were finally brushing against my own.

He meant it to be a sweet, fleeting kiss, but the moment seemed too perfect to waste. One of my hands roamed to the back of his neck, tangling into his hair and holding him close to me. He could read me like a book, and I felt his lips twist into a delicious smile as the kiss deepened. Part of me was aware that we were outside, and guards were probably keeping watch, so I forced myself to restrain my hands, no matter how much I wanted to caress his back and dip my fingers beneath the hem of his shirt.

Maxon caught my face in his hands, and pulled back a few inches. His breathing sounded somewhat laboured as he whispered, "You are the most passionate person I've ever met. It's astounding."

I felt my cheeks turn their usual pink. I bit my lip anxiously, and breathed, "Just you wait."

He pressed another kiss to my lips, but this one was more chaste. Nevertheless, we remained close, my waist encircled in his arms. I noticed his eyes exploring every inch of my face, memorising me by heart. It baffled me how fascinated this wonderful man still seemed by me - surely he was too good to be true?

"I love you."

My heart somersaulted in my chest. Without thinking, my reply tumbled from my lips, "I love you too, so very much."

Maxon beamed, however in a moment his disposition shifted, and he seemed more nervous. He raised a hand to the back of his neck and said, "I know it's a couple of hours early, but would you like your birthday present?"

"Of course," I sang eagerly. After all, we wouldn't get another opportunity like this one.

Maxon's lips twisted into a small smile, and his hand slipped into his pocket. He fell down onto one knee, and revealed a small, white box. In that moment, the world around us ground to a halt.

"America Singer," he began, his voice quavering, "You are truly the most exciting, impassioned, caring and impulsive person I have ever met. You already know of my intention to spend the rest of my life with you, but given your recent graciousness, I wanted to give you a token of my commitment. You make me a better person in all aspects of my life; you've made me a stronger, more involved ruler, but you've also made me a more vivacious, confident person. I need you by my side America, in every sense. Will you be my wife?"

He lifted the lid on the box, and revealed the most beautiful, ornate ring, sat in a bed of pale blue velvet. The diamonds in the setting twisted beautifully, incorporating tiny flower emblems and aquamarine stones, whilst the main stone was a perfect circle, neither too big nor too small, and completely flawless. Tears streamed down my face, but I managed to nod eagerly, offering Maxon my left hand. He slipped the ring ever so carefully onto my finger, smiling all the while, before pulling me into his arms and peppering my tearstained face with kisses.

"We'll have a nice, long engagement," he whispered, his voice cracking with imminent tears, "We'll get married shortly after your twentieth birthday, but for the time being I don't want anyone doubting our intentions. I want the whole world to know that I love you, America Singer."

* * *

**maggiebswim ****- It will definitely be interesting to see Maxon's response when he hears the whole story!**

**luv2read4reading - Your wish is my command :)  
**

**Athenachild101 - She really is! I felt like I didn't have enough Celeste drama at the beginning of my story!**

**theselectionqueen - I hadn't realised! That's amazing! **

**random FanGirl - I hope you were happy with the outcome :)  
**

**Swimchick - Don't worry, she got put in her place!  
**

**coweatsicecream - Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed it.**

**lilies24 - Haha, I'm such a meanie!**

**DaughterofSea - Your reviews always make me smile! Thank you so much :)**

**prnamber3909 - Sorry about that. As I said in the AN, whilst Marcel's attack was unpleasant, it wasn't that extreme.  
**

**ilona18 - Hopefully this chapter answered your questions! :)**

**Guest - I felt like the ball needed a bit of drama! I'm glad you enjoyed it.  
**

**Pauline Miguel - Thanks, I'll bear that in mind! :)  
**


	50. The New Illéa

**I can't believe we've already reached the end of this story! Thank you so much to all of you who've supported me with your reviews, favourites, and follows, as well as those of you who've been silently reading along. This has been my first shot as Fanfiction, and I never imagined it would be quite this fun! You guys are the best!**

**I still don't have my copy of The One, but with any luck it will be arriving tomorrow. I intend to start the sequel to this story, 'The Five and The King', just as soon as I've finished reading it.**

**Without any further ado, I hope you enjoy the final chapter...**

* * *

Unsurprisingly, Maxon was furious when I told him the whole truth about what had happened with Marcel, although thankfully his anger wasn't aimed at me. I explained that I hadn't wanted to ruin such a special night after so many weeks of planning, and mercifully he understood. His anger at Marcel was one thing, but his reaction when he found out that he'd been _hired_ by Celeste was another. As much as I hated to think about it, I knew that Maxon and Celeste had had some kind of strange relationship at one point, and no doubt this felt like an acute betrayal.

I straightened my blouse, and glanced into a mirror as I passed by, adjusting my hair. As much as I tried to look businesslike, my insides were squirming. God knows why I'd insisted on talking to Celeste, but for some reason I had, and as I made my way towards the secure unit I found myself wishing I had Braelyn for support. As soon as I'd explained her situation to Maxon he'd arranged for her to return to Whites; only a couple of days had passed, but I already missed her.

The head of security, Ramsey, waited outside the secure unit, and bowed his head as I approached. I doubted Celeste posed much of a threat now that she was under strict supervision, but given our history Maxon had insisted I have Ramsey nearby when I spoke with her.

"Lady America," Ramsey greeted with a professional smile, "I trust you're well?"

I returned his smile, "I'm fine. Thank you, Ramsey."

He nodded once, then his smile faltered as he asked, "I suppose you want to get this business with Miss Newsome out of the way, my lady?"

"Yes," I sighed, smoothing my skirts nervously, "No point putting it off."

"I'll be keeping an eye on things from outside," he explained, confirming my suspicions about the two way mirror as he unlocked the door for me, "Good luck, Lady America."

I discovered Celeste lounging on the bed, clutching a glass of water between her hands - I couldn't help but notice that the scarlet polish on her nails was becoming chipped after so many days in confinement. When she noticed me, she displayed no intent to stand up, remaining prone on the comforter.

"I heard Maxon finally proposed," she drawled, staring at the wall in front of her, "He took his time about it."

"He had his reasons," I sighed, moving over to the desk and leaning carefully on the edge, "Maxon always has his reasons."

"Why are you even here?"

I rolled my eyes, "I want to understand why you did what you did. Maxon wants my opinion on what we're going to do with you, and right now I've no idea."

"Don't you want to see me utterly humiliated?" she taunted, rolling the glass between her fingers, "Caned and stripped on my titles and marched through the street of Angeles whilst you sit there in your finery?"

"Don't flatter yourself," I muttered, folding my arms, "King Clarkson did far worse than you did, and Maxon showed him more mercy than that."

Celeste sighed heavily. She was trying to sound bored, but I could tell that it was more than that. She placed the glass clumsily on her nightstand and propped herself up on her elbows, finally facing me, "Look at me. I was raised to be where you are now. I was groomed for The Selection the moment I was walking and talking. My father pulled strings to make sure I was Selected, and the King openly considered me his favourite. My whole life was leading up to the day I arrived in the palace. I saw you and Marlee sat in the airport giggling and hugging like you were off to summer camp, and it made me so _angry_. This was my _life_. It was _everything_ I'd been trained and prepared for, and you were treating it like a childish game."

My mind was reeling, but all I could say was, "I assure you, I never considered it a game."

Celeste laughed coldly, "Whatever, America. You all saw me as malicious and seductive and power hungry, but did it ever occur to you that my reasons for wanting to win were every bit as valid as yours? My parents invested so much time and money into making sure I had what it took to win, and when you got me eliminated, you ruined everything. I have no backup plan."

"I didn't 'get you eliminated'," I pointed out, "You got yourself eliminated."

She rolled her eyes, "Of course, let's just turn this around onto what a bitch Celeste is, as always."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing - was she really that deluded?

"Celeste, you paid a man to assault me in my own home."

She narrowed her beautiful yet hard eyes, and spoke with a pointed venom, "And I regret nothing."

* * *

It was the day of the Report, which meant that soon we would be finally progressing with the abolition of the caste system, instead of just talking about it. However, there was something else on my mind, something that I hadn't been able to stop thinking about since Maxon and I's encounter with Septus.

I'd been granted a day away from my work to properly prepare myself for the special Report that would no doubt change Illea forever, however I was utilising it in a different way. Amberley had been happy to show me the new location of Gregory's diaries, and I'd spent the morning sat at the table in my bedroom with the balcony doors flung wide, skimming them for any mention of the Lysander family.

For a while it looked like my search would prove fruitless, until I stumbled across a promising passage -

_'Getting every prominent family on side was never going to be a walk in the park. That said, I thought Thomas Lysander was one of the smart ones. In the old days I found his financial expertise immensely helpful, however he simply can't get on board with my ideas for the country. It would appear that he's one for democracy, old Lysander, and that simply isn't going to work out._

_I knew there would be some opposition, but I never expected it in someone as prominent and intelligent as him. He asks to be simply left out of proceedings, but he's a threat. Unless he swears fealty, he has no place in the new order of things. He will have to be dealt with.'_

As often happened when I read Gregory Illea's words, unpleasant chills raced down my spine. Nevertheless, I forced myself to read on, looking for any more information. It didn't take me long to find another passage -

_'He's a snake in the grass, that Lysander. I stripped him of his titles and wealth, made him an Eight, ostracised him from society, and yet his name keeps cropping up. Some believe he is involved in the growing resistance, and has powerful relatives overseas who are funding his cause. Angeles was attacked last week, and some claim that they saw his face amongst the rebels._

_Lysander is determined, I'll give him that, but he underestimates just what I am capable of. If I can manipulate an entire country, I can stamp out one little snake...'_

My heart raced in my chest. So it was true; Lysander was one of the first prominent rebels. He had family overseas, but the question was, where? Who were they? For how long had they funded the rebels? Were they still doing it to this day?

We had to find out what had become of the Lysander legacy.

* * *

I sat beside Maxon and Amberley waiting for the Report to begin. We were all excited and nervous about the news we would be rolling out in a matter of minutes, and there was an anxious electricity in the air. Amberley looked a little more flustered than usual, whilst Maxon couldn't stay still for longer than a few seconds. My family were the only ones keeping me sane; they were sat amongst the audience across the room with permanent smiles etched across their faces. May blew me a kiss and my heart swelled in my chest.

I turned to Maxon and straightened his tie with a gentle smile, trying to calm him down. It was evident in the panicked rise and fall of his chest that he had no idea what to expect of tonight, however if our plan was to work, he had to exude poise and confidence. I laced my fingers through his, and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand, my engagement ring flashing under the studio lights.

"Relax," I whispered, raising my hand to his cheek, "You'll be fantastic, I just know it."

Maxon looked conflicted, "What if it all goes wrong? What if it causes complete uproar?"

I shook my head, trying to look more certain than I felt, "Remember what you said to me once? This country could use some ruining. Whatever happens after tonight, we'll work with it, and it will all pan out in the long run."

"You have too much faith in me," he chuckled, although he did look a little calmer.

"No," I began, touching a finger playfully to his nose, "I have faith in _us._"

Maxon laughed, but he didn't argue.

"We're about to go live!" Amberley hissed with an encouraging smile, and sure enough the lights dipped and the cameras began to roll. I placed a hand on Maxon's back as he rose from his chair and took his place at the podium.

"Good evening, Illea. When I was crowned your King, I promised that I would make Illea the great country I know it has the potential to be, and tonight I will begin to make good on that promise."

* * *

**Sarasmile247 - Thank you so much! I can't wait to read The One :)**

**Athenachild101 - Don't worry, she's learned her lesson when it comes to trust!**

**maggiebswim - Haha, that actually made me laugh out loud!**

**Karategirl537 - The sequel will skip ahead a couple of chapters, and yes, it will involve the wedding :)**

**prnamber3909 - Oh no, I wasn't upset! I just wanted to make sure I hadn't made people feel uncomfortable.**

**Guest - Haha, hopefully that's a good thing! Thank you :)**

**ShadowhunterWithABow - I was glad I could finally make Aspen genuinely useful!**

**theselectionqueen - Don't worry, I think Maxon and Mer have got past that now!**

**d12t4eva - Aww, that's so sweet!**

**tourquisestar - Thank you so much for reading :)**

**Dhenn618 - I haven't read it yet, but I'm dying to!**

**ilona18 - Haha, I never thought I'd say yay for Aspen either!**

**legeorge02 - Thank you so much for reading!**

**luv2read4reading - This was the last chapter ): But there's a sequel in the making!**

**zeldafanatic0555 - Thanks for all of your lovely reviews! I'll see what I can do regarding your scene request ;)**

**Swimchick - Yep, the sequel is coming soon! Thanks sweetie.**

**MaxonsIsMine - Yay, thank you so much!**

**Guest - That's so sweet! I definitely plan on publishing a book one day, with a bit of luck anyway!**

**guesst - I hope you enjoyed the final chapter!**

**Mena Blanding - I love how many people picked up on that!**

**Chloe - Thanks for the lovely long review! It really made me smile. One of the reasons I'm not having them get married just yet is because the idea of them getting married right away is part of Gregory Illea's system, which they're actively working to change. Also, America's only 18, and they've known each other for a matter of months. Realistically, I think their marriage would work better if they took their time about it. I'm more than happy to give an epilogue a try once I've read The One - thank you!**

**DaughterofSea - Thank you for the lovely review! Don't be too sad, there's still the sequel to look forward to :)**

**Persona A - Sorry for leaving you hanging so long!**

**Kaminator - I'm so glad! Thank you so much.**

**HorseGalFangirl9 - What a lovely review! Thank you so much :)**

**DreamUnicorn247 - Yay! Hope you enjoyed it!**

**cynthia - Thank you! I haven't read The One yet, but I'm really looking forward to it.**


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